


easy

by thereisnoreality



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Exes, Friends With Benefits, Hate Sex, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, so do with that what you will, the working title for this is: nahyuck are assholes and they have a lot of hate-heatsex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:14:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26330203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thereisnoreality/pseuds/thereisnoreality
Summary: Jaemin and Donghyuck spend seven and half months dating, break up, spend another three months in total silence and then decide that becoming exes with benefits is the best idea in the goddamn universe.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Na Jaemin
Comments: 116
Kudos: 337





	1. this house is on fire (woo!)

**Author's Note:**

> hello. 
> 
> i am back to torture both myself and you with another chaptered fic. i have no idea what im doing or where this is going i just really wanted to write hate-sex nahyuck and here we are. this is probably the most graceless writing i've ever put out but like you know how nahyuck have that “we spent most of our formative years together and then we broke up but we’re still coworkers and have to pretend we like each other vibe”? yeah....
> 
> and this is for that anon who came into my cc telling me to think about nahyuck as here we go again by demi lovato. are you happy now? you have caused chaos in my head.
> 
> the current title of this doc is: nahyuck are assholes and they have a lot of hate-heatsex. but i didn't think that would make a particularly good title. so you know. do you with that what you will. 
> 
> horrifyingly i do not have a playlist - all of this was written by listening to troye sivan's in a dream ep on repeat so you should probably listen to that while reading. or don't, all the rules for my fics have been flung out the window.
> 
> a big thank you to everyone i sent this fic to, you saved it from being tossed in the dumpster <3

The second Jaemin sees Donghyuck from across the room, he knows he’s fucked.

The apartment is chock full of people, and Jaemin honestly doubts his eyes for a second, squinting between the flashes of people as they dance by him but then the space clears and he sees Donghyuck standing there, less than thirty feet away from him, grinning at someone and raking his hand through honey hair. 

Luckily, for him, Donghyuck doesn't seem to see him yet. He's on the other side of the room and Jaemin ducks into the kitchen and out into the other hallway before he _can_ , pulling his shirt away from his skin as he goes, grimacing at the thin sheen of sweat that’s covering his skin.

He’d been feeling hot all day but in all honesty, Jaemin had thought absolutely nothing of it. It had been a hotter day than usual and their air conditioner had been on the fritz - neither of them were any further from stupidly-broke-to-the-point-of-sixty-cent-ramen line than they had been two paychecks ago - and Jaemin had simply chalked the sweating and faint burning at the back of his neck, in the pit of his belly, to the overwhelming heat and the extra spicy Shin Ramen Jeno had found on discount last week and bulk bought, that they had eaten for the last three meals straight.

Besides, it's not as if Jeno could have warned him - he was useless in the nose department.

It could have also been the party - crowded and packed in some random second year's house that Jeno knew from his vet internship. The apartment was small, and there were far more people that could possibly fit inside; the smell of weed hangs thick in the air and Jaemin's sneakers are sticking to the floor.

At least he doesn't have to be the one to clean it all up.

But, back to the point, Jaemin doesn't expect to see Donghyuck there. He hasn't seen Donghyuck in months - not since before the summer break - and it sends a bolt of lightning, harsh and quick, running down the length of his spine when he spies him.

Just in time, Jaemin sees Chenle ducking out the front door, a handful of beers held in his hand and calls out to him, following Chenle outside the apartment.

"Go away," Chenle says, scrunching his nose at Jaemin when Jaemin catches up to him, pausing on the stairs. "The roof isn't for losers."

"Mature," Jaemin mocks before wrapping his hand around Chenle's wrist and tugging him to his side and making his eyes as big as he can. Chenle's disgusted expression only grows at it. "Save me, Le, you're my only safe haven from He Who Shall Not Be Named."

Dramatic sure, but Jaemin has no interest in being caught by his ex-boyfriend at the first party of the year. Especially when he looks so stupidly hot. It just serves to make Jaemin irrationally furious.

Chenle heaves a huge sigh, blowing hot, gross beer breath all over Jaemin's face before letting Jaemin slip past him, up the stairs, and onto the cool roof. The wind lifts the shirt from his sticky skin, and Jaemin sighs, lifting his arms up and letting the air seep through his clothes.

"You're so dramatic," Chenle says, shutting the door behind him. "And you _stink_."

Jaemin frowns at him and follows him to where Chenle's friends, and about a third of their school's dance club, sit.

"When did you get this rude?" Jaemin demands, sitting down next to Chenle. "I miss when you were just a frightened high schooler."

"I was never frightened of you," Chenle says derisively and Renjun laughs beside him.

"I didn't expect to see you here, Jaemin," Renjun says, leadingly, grinning at Jaemin. Jaemin’s oddly reminded of a nature documentary about hyenas Jeno made him watch last night.

"I didn't know he would be here," Jaemin mumbles, stealing a bottle from Chenle. "Jeno dragged me along."

Renjun snickers, completely heartless in the face of Jaemin's misery. "At some point, you're going to have start talking again, you know," he tells Jaemin. "You have all the same friends."

"No, I don't," Jaemin says mulishly. "He's an asshole."

"Yeah, and so are you," Sicheng says bluntly from the other side of Renjun and Renjun bursts out laughing, leaning into Sicheng's shoulder. He may be a tiny bit drunk, from what Jaemin can tell; his cheeks are bright pink and he's clutching onto Sicheng's arm.

"Don't torment the poor undergrad, Sicheng," Ten calls from where he's wrapped around Kun shamelessly. “It’s not his fault he’s too dumb to hold down a boyfriend.” When Jaemin sticks his tongue out at him, Ten laughs in his face.

The wind blows across the roof again and Jaemin sighs, pulling at the collar of his shirt. It's getting slowly hotter despite the setting sun and the constant wind and even the beer isn't helping cool him down.

"Woah," Chenle says, recoiling, as the wind brushes over him, blowing his hair back. "No, hyung, you _really_ stink."

Kun frowns, leaning in. "Jaemin," he says slowly, pulling all of their attention to him. "I think you-"

"You're in heat," Renjun snaps, too loudly. His cheeks are flushed and he’s obviously drunk but his words strike a silence. The crowd on the other side of the roof quiets for a moment before they resume their conversation. Renjun hisses, "Jaemin, you idiot. What the fuck are you doing at a party?"

"I am not," Jaemin protests, pulling his shirt away from his chest again. "I'm just _hot_. Our air conditioner broke last week.”

"No, you're in heat," Chenle says, leaning in to sniff him. Jaemin's eyes flutter shut for half a second when Chenle's nose presses against his jaw before he manages to pull away, breath coming hard and fast all of a sudden. Chenle frowns at him, even as his eyes flicker down to Jaemin’s neck before he scoots back. "Or, at least you're in preheat. I _told_ you you were stinking, hyung.”

Jaemin takes in a ragged breath before realising he wouldn’t be nearly this affected by Chenle if he weren’t right. If he wasn’t in fucking _heat_. 

"Fuck," Jaemin groans, scooting back from Chenle before his instincts start to say some very convincing theories and his memory starts to give him the data behind those theories. "I need to get out of here."

"First smart thing you've said all night," Renjun mutters, eyebrows drawing together tightly.

Another gust of wind blows over them and all of them visibly lean back, looks of concern - Kun - and amusement - Ten - flashing over their faces. Only Chenle looks the mildest bit affected, fingers digging into the cement floor, but even that is tempered by him visibly breathing out of his mouth. Jaemin finishes his beer in one last gulp, savouring the cold liquid running through him before he staggers upright. "I'm heading home," he mumbles. "Before this gets any worse."

"Do you want me to come with?" Renjun asks, concerned, but Jaemin shakes his head.

"No, I'm fine for now. I'm just going to find Jeno and get out."

Now that it's been brought to his attention, the reality of it all, Jaemin can feel his heat building at the base of his stomach. His throat is dry and he can feel sweat drip down his spine. All signs of warning. All signs Jaemin had missed.

A chorus of goodbyes follows him as Jaemin leaves the roof, wrenching the door open and hurrying down the stairs. He hesitates at the doorway to the apartment, not wanting to step into the crowded room full of horny strangers but the need to find Jeno, find someone stable, intensifies and Jaemin quickly pushes through the crowd, intent on leaving as soon as he possibly can.

He gets side glances from a lot of people, and one or two reaching hands twist out to him, but Jaemin slips away, breath coming faster. Fuck, this was a bad idea. This party, this _crowd_ was a bad idea. There are too many smells, too many pheromones drifting through the air, all of them snagging at his nose, enticing him backward, into the arms and scents of strangers.

"Hey."

Jaemin turns, blinking in confusion. The voice sounded like Jeno but it's not. It's a random stranger, looming over him, a smile pulled across his teeth.

"Hi," Jaemin says cautiously. He refuses to give into the need to wrap his arms around his body, as if protecting himself. Refuses to cower.

"Can I get you a drink?" The guy asks, leering uncomfortably at him. "You look kinda..." His eyes sweep up and down Jaemin's body and Jaemin resists the urge to jump into the nearest shower. "Thirsty."

_Oh, spare me_. Jaemin rolls his eyes inwardly. "Thanks, but no," he says lightly, summoning a saccharine smile from nowhere. "I'm just looking for my friend, actually."

"Oh," the guy says, leaning in, interest sparking in his eyes. His nose twitches obviously as Jaemin tries very hard not to back up. That would only trigger the chase. _God_ , alphas were truly a plague on this earth. "Maybe I can help-"

"Nope!" Jaemin cuts him off brightly. "He hates strangers - he'll start crying, really, if he sees you, so I gotta go now, bye."

Not the smoothest escape but Jaemin should be afforded a little clumsiness. He's about to be completely useless in an hour. 

Jeno is nowhere to be seen in the main room or the kitchen and Jaemin is just sliding into the full hallway, intent on searching the bedrooms - ready to brave whatever sight may face him- when a hand closes around his wrist.

Jaemin yanks it back instinctively, expecting it to be the creepy alpha from before, but he sees an even worse figure standing in front of him.

"God," Jaemin sighs. "What do you want?"

Donghyuck glowers at him. "You're so fucking stupid," he says. The first thing he’s said to Jaemin since June — since they broke up. "Are you aware that you're in _heat_ , Na?"

Jaemin smirks at him, feeling some of the frantic energy fade from his limbs as he looks at Donghyuck. Honestly, leave it up to Donghyuck to make Jaemin's heat secondary to his need to verbally eviscerate Donghyuck at every given opportunity. "'Na?" He echoes. "Come on, Hyuck, that’s so _informal_. What happened to calling me baby-"

Donghyuck growls, low and short and truly _fuck_ Jaemin's instincts, to his body, for reacting the way it does. For the goosebumps that skitter up his spine, the way his gut wrenches. He can feel the beginning of his heat encroach upon him, crawling over his shoulders like a particularly unfriendly spider. "Jaemin," Donghyuck spits. "You need to get out of here.”

“What do you think I’m trying to do, dumbass?” Jaemin demands. “I can’t find Jeno.”

Donghyuck frowns at him and the irritation fades from his limbs briefly. “I saw Jeno leave like half an hour ago with someone. Didn’t he tell you?”

Jaemin blinks, and for a second, the haze of his heat recedes, to make way for confusion. He pulls out his phone and sees a handful of texts from Jeno warning him not to come tonight and groans, head thudding against the wall of the hallway. “Fuck,” he says with great feeling. “Goddamnit.”

Donghyuck snorts. “You’re an idiot,” he says and then starts to say more when a group of girls passes by them. One of their scents catches at Jaemin, oak and lavender tugging at his nose and Jaemin swallows hard as a wave of dizziness floods over him. One of the girls turns, eyes locking onto Jaemin's and Jaemin just manages to catch a glimpse of a smile, a flirtatious building to _something,_ the lavender scent strengthening before it vanishes under the force of Donghyuck's growl. He pushes up into Jaemin's space, breaking him out of the daze.

Jaemin hates how entitled alphas are - a product of nature his ass. If he wants to be pinned down and taken by a gorgeous girl then that is _his_ fucking prerogative.

"I hate you," Jaemin groans as Donghyuck drags him away. "She was pretty."

" _She_ is not in heat and _you_ are basically unable to consent to anything right now," Donghyuck shoots back, pushing Jaemin in front of him as they reach the huge crowd taking up the living room.

His hand remains the anchor for Jaemin as they push through the crowd of people and scents, wrapped around Jaemin's wrist, thumb pressing into the jut of his radius bone. Jaemin focuses on that - focuses only on Donghyuck's scent - the one that's the most familiar to Jaemin. 

It feels like Jaemin has been holding his breath the whole time he’d been inside and the second they stumble out into the cool night, he sucks in a large desperate breath. The cool night air sinks into his lungs and Jaemin's eyes fly open when it's followed by Donghyuck's spicy scent, sandalwood and chilies, bringing up strong memories of the hole in the wall Indian restaurant Jaemin spent most of his hungover mornings in freshman year at. Memories of Donghyuck practically wrapped around him, his mouth pressed to the pulse point of Jaemin's neck, his scent flooding Jaemin's senses to the point of dazing him.Breathing in Donghyuck so freely, after so long stirs his insides up, making them turn into jelly. 

"You can let go of me now," Jaemin says and Donghyuck looks at him before his fingers uncurl from Jaemin's wrist and he steps back, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets.

"What in the world went through your mind when you decided to go to a party on your heat?" Donghyuck asks him flatly.

Jaemin heaves a huge sigh and glowers at Donghyuck when heat trickles down his spine, blinding and hot. "Obviously I didn't realise I was going to start my heat," he spits back, just barely clinging onto his sanity.

"What about your suppressants?"

Jaemin blinks and then bites his lower lip. "I... May have run out."

Donghyuck looks dumbfounded and even Jaemin has to agree at the reaction to his own stupidity. He hadn't thought about it last night when he'd found the empty medicine bottle in his bathroom, figuring he'll order more later when he had the time but now Jaemin's regretting all of his decisions.

"You're an idiot," Donghyuck says again as if Jaemin doesn't know this. Donghyuck heaves in a huge breath and lets it out through his nose before he straightens. He doesn't seem affected at all by Jaemin - not nearly anywhere what Chenle's reaction had been despite being so close to him and Jaemin's ego pricks at it. "Okay, come on, I'm taking you home."

"I can go by myself," Jaemin scowls, stepping back as if Donghyuck might grab him. Not that Jaemin wouldn't punch him if he tried.

"Yeah, right," Donghyuck scoffs. "You walk home alone like _this,_ and you're basically asking for something bad to happen to you."

He's right and Jaemin knows it. He knows that he's probably safer with Donghyuck around than he is alone but Jaemin doesn't want to be alone with Donghyuck. His heat is building too thickly at the base of his spine and slick is starting to trickle down, probably fatally ruining his underwear. Despite having broken up before the previous year ended, Jaemin's pretty sure he doesn't hate Donghyuck enough not to embarrassingly break and beg him to help him out when it comes down to it. When Jaemin becomes the most desperate. 

He doesn’t _want_ to though. He wants to stay as far away from Donghyuck as he possibly can.

"I can't go home," Jaemin realises just before he's about to say yes and allow Donghyuck the superiority of taking him home. "Jeno's sexiled me."

Donghyuck stares at him, and Jaemin stares back.

"Well," Donghyuck says and Jaemin somehow knows exactly what he's going to say before he says it.

"No-" he starts warningly.

"We can go to my place," Donghyuck finishes, face screwed up as if it were agony for him to get those words out. Jaemin wants to kick him in the shin.

"No," he repeats, insistent. "I am _not_ going to your apartment, Hyuck!"

"You've already been there," Donghyuck points out. "It's familiar to you and I live alone, so you won't be uncomfortable."

"I _will_ be uncomfortable because it's your fucking house," Jaemin snaps, just as another wave of heat sweeps over him, slamming into him like a full tidal wave. Jaemin stumbles, a noise slipping out of him. He hits the wall of the apartment and sinks against it, sucking in deep breaths, digging his fingers into the brick, to steady himself. Donghyuck shifts as if to grab him but seems to think better of it, holding back before he touches him.

"Jaemin," Donghyuck says, his voice softer. It slinks up the length of his body and curls like an unwilling guest into Jaemin's ears. Like a siren's song. "Jaemin, you can't go into heat right in the middle of the street. Your best option is me, right now."

Jaemin stares up at the night sky, sucks in another desperate breath, full of chilies and sandalwood, burning his lungs to ash, and then looks straight at Donghyuck. "Okay," he says. "Okay, let's go."

🌧

"Stop glowering," Jaemin orders under his breath, dropping his head against the subway door and panting a little. He's mildly ashamed of the way he's leaning into Donghyuck, soaking up his scent but he can’t seem to stop. It’s helping keeping the heat at bay while also managing to drive Jaemin insane. "You're scaring people."

"I'm not scaring anyone," Donghyuck mutters, hand clenching around the handle, his knuckles going white as someone passes by them, brushing too close for comfort. "They keep staring at you."

"Yeah, because I smell like a confectionery shop has exploded all over me," Jaemin groans. His hand twitches upward to drag Donghyuck closer but he thinks better of it and forces his hand behind him, clenching in the back of his shirt. "I'm pretty sure it smells sickly."

"I think you always smell really nice, actually," Donghyuck says quietly. When Jaemin snaps his eyes to him, Donghyuck's looking determinedly over his head at the subway map, refusing to meet his gaze. His cheeks and neck are flushed pink; at least he's _finally_ affected by Jaemin.

"I hate you," Jaemin says apropos of nothing. He does. Despite every nerve in his body screaming out for Donghyuck to touch him, he hates him. He hates that he’s ended up in this position and he hates Donghyuck for being… Himself about it.

Donghyuck scowls at him, the dreaminess shattering from his eyes. "You're such an asshole."

Jaemin manages to summon up a grin, despite the haze building up over him, threatening to overwhelm him when their eyes meet. At least this is familiar. At least they’re back on even ground.

By the time they get off the subway and up to Donghyuck's apartment, Jaemin is rapidly becoming a useless extra appendage latched onto Donghyuck, boiling up all over. It feels like his feet are melting through the pavement.

"Donghyuck," Jaemin groans, throwing his arms around Donghyuck and letting himself sink into him, into the floor. Donghyuck grabs him tightly, cursing to himself. Distantly Jaemin hears the elevator doors open and then he's being dragged through the doors and the floor is moving rapidly, making him dizzy. " _Donghyuck._ "

"What?" Donghyuck snaps back, strain in his voice. "Jaemin - just - stop being so difficult."

"Why are you so annoying?" Jaemin mumbles, latching onto Donghyuck's neck and nosing down the curve of his throat. His scent intensifies, harsh and spicy and Jaemin wants to drown in it. His tongue flicks out to taste it, gratification surging through him when Donghyuck hisses, his scent thickening. "Always so fucking annoying."

"You're not that great either," Donghyuck says, sounding stressed. Jaemin vaguely feels like he's being pulled over dips in the floor and then there’s the beep of the door in a far away distance and Jaemin presses his face deeper into the curve of Donghyuck’s neck, breathing deeply. Then, all of a sudden, the sharp scent of Donghyuck billows up all around him and Jaemin feels like he's going insane. His knees buckle and Jaemin gasps, twisting in Donghyuck’s hold. Slick is coating the inside of his thighs by now and his throat is dry. He wants to drown in this. 

"Just a second longer," Donghyuck mutters. "Come on, Min-ah, hold it together."

"I can't," Jaemin moans. He hates his heats so much, hates the way they leave him absolutely vulnerable but he can’t seem to stop acting like this. It’s like he’s looking down at himself, at the way he’s wrapped around Donghyuck like an octopus, cheeks flushed and groaning and he can’t do a damn thing about it. His body is not his own, not right now anyway.

The door to Donghyuck's room slams open, revealing an even thicker rush of his scent. Jaemin finally collapses, losing all the strength in his legs, but Donghyuck catches him just in time and drops him unceremoniously on his bed.

"Fuck," Jaemin spits, writhing around in the sheets. He's absolutely dripping by now and everything is going hazy, going blurry. The sharp scent of chilies retreats and Jaemin just manages to peel his eyes open to see Donghyuck walk out of the room. "Wait-" Jaemin calls, voice wrecked but before he can embarrassingly beg Donghyuck to stay, he comes back, a pack of water bottles in his hand.

Jaemin watches, in growing desperation, as Donghyuck carefully lines them up on the nightstand along with a box of tissues and crackers — the only food Jaemin ever eats during his heats and later, when Jaemin is less of a hot mess, he’ll wonder about that, wonder if Donghyuck had just kept the old box from the last time Jaemin had had his heat — when they were together — or had kept buying them, the same exact brand and all, despite their relationship ending. Donghyuck doesn’t look at Jaemin the whole time.

"Okay," Donghyuck says, voice cracking. "Okay, are you good here?"

"Wait," Jaemin scrambles up, nearly face planting on the bed in his haste. "You're leaving?"

"Yeah," Donghyuck says, already backing out of his bedroom door, colour high on his cheeks. "I'll spend the weekend at Mark's or something, just text me when you feel better."

"You can't just leave me here!" Jaemin snaps. He's on the edge of losing his sense of coherency entirely but the sense of frantic panic of being left alone is keeping him just barely clear. "Get back here and help me out, asshole!"

Donghyuck frowns at him. "Jaemin, you're in heat-"

"I hadn't noticed," Jaemin spits. He resists the urge to press his face into Donghyuck’s sheets and just _inhale_.

"I'm not fucking you," Donghyuck snaps back. "We broke up! You don't even like me!"

"I like your dick enough," Jaemin groans. He's so _hot_ and he's _so_ irritated _._ He wants to murder Donghyuck. "Just shut up and be useful for once in your life."

"I'm not- you can't even consent-" Donghyuck starts and Jaemin loses his patience. He lunges out of the bed which seems like a good idea for the first two milliseconds, when Donghyuck’s eyes widen in surprise. But then Jaemin’s body catches up to his mind and he promptly collapses on the floor, burning up all over. 

“Jaemin!” Donghyuck yelps, darting forward a second too late, arms only catching Jaemin’s shoulders as he lands painfully on the hardwood floor. Fuck Donghyuck for not even shelling out for a nice rug. Jaemin’s glad he broke up with him when he had the chance. 

Jaemin takes advantage of their proximity and curls his useless fingers into a fist around the collar of Donghyuck’s stupid flowery button down — that he has _no_ right to look that good in — and yanks him down, so their faces are close together, hissing with a fury that he can feel down to his aching bones, “If you don’t get your fucking knot in me so my fucking asshole stops leaking then I swear to all that is holy Lee Donghyuck, I will walk out onto that street right now, let myself be murdered and come back to haunt you until you lose your _fucking mind_.”

Donghyuck stares at him for an agonising pause and then slowly blows his hot, nasty breath that stinks of alcohol right in Jaemin’s face making him grimace and pull away. “Fine,” Donghyuck says and abruptly yanks Jaemin up, dragging him to his bed before Jaemin lands in the well of Donghyuck’s scent again, eyes fluttering shut as the pain recedes somewhat. 

“Finally,” Jaemin sighs, letting his head fall against Donghyuck’s pillow, and taking a deep breath, shifting under Donghyuck’s weight. “I was wondering when you’d stop being such a little bitch.”

“You’re so fucking annoying,” Donghyuck grits and then his hand is grabbing Jaemin’s jaw, forcing him to look at him. “I need you to tell me you’re 100 percent okay with this,” he says slowly, seriously enough that Jaemin forces back his first instinct to chomp down on Donghyuck’s hand so he loses a finger or two. “I need you to tell me you’re not going to wake up in three days and be seriously fucking traumatized by this.”

A shiver crawls over Jaemin; Donghyuck’s fingers are unrelenting on his jaw, his gaze is dark and steady. None of the previous want is reflected there, no matter how deeply it had been buried. Jaemin hates how attracted he is to this Donghyuck — it has to be the heat. It _has_ to be. 

Donghyuck doesn’t say a thing, doesn’t move a muscle, just waits for Jaemin to respond. For his part, Jaemin is trying to remember what words sound like, if he’s being completely honest.

“I’m okay,” Jaemin says slowly, finally, when his tongue starts working again under that heavy gaze. “Donghyuck, I want you to fuck me. I’m saying yes.”

Donghyuck swallows. “Okay, then,” he says and then his hands are sliding down Jaemin’s chest, and yanking his shirt off, fingernails scratching accidentally at his stomach making Jaemin arch up with a groan. 

And it’s off like a race - like horses bursting out of the gate, pounding strong hooves over the dirt, a drum beat echoed between the two of them. Jaemin’s hands scramble at his pants, yanking them off with a loud, relieved groan when the pressure on his dick is finally released. Donghyuck sits back on his heels, and helps him pull them off before his own shirt follows and the whiplash of his scent, _their_ scents, intermingling together sends Jaemin's head spinning. He drops his head back on the pillow, hips rutting up into thin air.

Donghyuck hands close around his waist, pulling him down until he can grind down against Jaemin, their cocks dragging together. Even if it’s graceless as hell, muted through the layers of clothes - especially Donghyuck’s jeans - it’s the first sort of relief Jaemin has had since it all started and it sends stars sparking through his vision.

“Get these off,” Jaemin gasps, hands shoving ineffectually at the tight waistband of Donghyuck’s jeans. Donghyuck obeys, without saying a word back for once. He looks idiotic, wrestling with the skin tight layer of his jeans, clearly stuck to his thighs with sweat, and Jaemin rolls his eyes. "How did I get stuck with such a dumbass alpha for my heat?" He asks Donghyuck's ceiling. Unsurprisingly, the ceiling does not respond. 

Even more unsurprising is when Donghyuck _does._ "Takes one to know one," he snaps, finally yanking off his jeans and flinging it so hard it hits the opposite wall, the belt buckle slamming into the wall with a loud clunk.

"Just shut up and get your dick in me," Jaemin hisses, already sitting up, fighting through the pain, the sluggishness of his body to pin Donghyuck to the bed and settling on his thighs, gritting his teeth as the ache hits him straight in the gut making him double over.

"Don't you wanna-" Donghyuck starts.

"No," Jaemin says emphatically. If he lets Donghyuck be on top, they'll never get this show on the road and Jaemin's dick will probably fall off in frustration. He's leaking so much by now, he's sure it's soaked through his underwear and onto Donghyuck's thighs and sheets but it all pales in comparison. It all vanishes into a wisp, drifting into nothingness when Donghyuck looks straight at him, slowly, carefully teasing his underwear down until Jaemin is biting his lower lip, trying not to let a single noise escape him as his dick hits the open air, dripping precome all over his waist and thigh.

"You good?" Donghyuck asks lowly and for a moment, there's just a beat of quiet around them. His thumbs are stroking circles into Jaemin’s hip bones. Jaemin’s lashes flutter and for a moment he wants to sink in Donghyuck’s hands, wants to let him take over completely. 

"Shut up," Jaemin says again and the moment shatters into pieces around them. He sits up, bracing his hands on Donghyuck's chest before sinking down on Donghyuck’s cock. He only gets halfway before the pain becomes too much but that’s enough frankly, that’s _more_ than enough. His hands are right above Donghyuck’s heart and Jaemin can feel it stutter, skip a beat. 

“Jaemin,” Donghyuck starts, voice strained but Jaemin shuts him up with a noise and then slams himself all the way down and he cries out, chest heaving, pain and pleasure rocketing through him at the same time, twining together. 

“Fuck,” Donghyuck spits, hands clenching tightly on his waist, fingers digging in and Jaemin huffs out a strained laugh. _Finally_. He lifts himself up and drops down again, starting an unsteady, unfulfilling rhythm. It’s jerky and slow and infinitely frustrating because as good Jaemin is in bed, his heat manages to render him completely useless - at least until he gets a knot in him. But like hell, Jaemin is going to give up this tiny control. Donghyuck has finally shut up for once and Jaemin has finally got his way. He’s going to enjoy this. 

It’s hard to enjoy a heat — at least the first round anyway. Everything aches, pulling tightly at his skin, like he’s a part of the desert, cracked earth mirroring cracked pores, wringing him dry. It makes him feel weak, the strength in his thighs failing quickly. But Jaemin persists because when he peels his eyes open to check in on Donghyuck, the look in his eyes, dark and glittering, and the way his fingers are sprawling over Jaemin’s body, seeking and owning, sends a thrill skittering down his spine. Jaemin tosses his head back, gasping for clean air that doesn’t come — every breath is full of Donghyuck.

Donghyuck’s hips jerk up into him and just that movement, half-aborted sends Jaemin spinning out of control. He collapses, just managing to catch himself on his shaky hands before his head slams into Donghyuck’s sternum. “Goddamnit,” he gasps, still grinding back against Donghyuck’s cock and tries to sit up but his body refuses to, thighs shaking badly when he tries to put any strength into them. “Fucking shit.” 

“Are you gonna let me fuck you properly now?” Donghyuck demands, somehow just as breathless. His hand sweeps over Jaemin’s spine, pressing into the vertebrae and Jaemin shudders.

“Fuck you,” he groans, picking his head up to glare at Donghyuck through sweaty bangs. “I’m not some helpless sack of flour.”

“No,” Donghyuck agrees. “You’re not. But I also can’t believe you though you could ride me on your first round. It’s not like you’ve been going to the gym that much.”

And before Jaemin can even entertain the thought of punching Donghyuck in his stupid, smarmy face, Donghyuck pushes off the bed, and lifts him, pulling Jaemin off his cock, making him gasp wretchedly, clenching around the abrupt emptiness before Jaemin’s landing flat on his back on the bed and Donghyuck’s hovering over him. He grins, smug and knowing, and Jaemin’s hand automatically curls into a fist. Donghyuck notices because of _course_ he does. “Punch me later,” he advises Jaemin through a laugh, lining up his cock and slamming into Jaemin in one, long, breathless thrust. “You won’t get to come if I start bleeding all over you.” 

“Not a kink?” Jaemin asks. His hands clench in the sheets. “I thought you liked being put down.”

“Not by you,” Donghyuck says and it’s such an obvious lie that Jaemin grins at him. He has plenty of proof to the contrary and opens his mouth to remind Donghyuck of exactly those times but Donghyuck draws back, shoves his thighs back and fucks back in. Jaemin’s head falls back and he moans loudly. It leaves him trembling, already on the precipice but Donghyuck doesn’t waste any time, just slams back into him again and again, until Jaemin’s close to losing his mind. For the first time since the night began, Jaemin finally feels at ease. 

He’d never admit it out loud but Donghyuck is good at this, _they’re_ both good at this — they may have only dated for a few months but in that time an overwhelming amount of sex had been had and Jaemin knows exactly how to make Donghyuck feel good just as Donghyuck does him. 

Donghyuck’s hands are gripping his thighs tightly, bruises forming right then and there and Jaemin absolutely lets himself go, flings the last amount of self control he has out the window and gasps Donghyuck’s name, clinging to the sheets, the headboard, to Donghyuck’s arms, pressing into the muscles as Donghyuck fucks him, relentless and hard. 

The pain has receded to the back of his head and all that’s left is just a feverish want, to be filled, to be knotted, to be fucked into oblivion. “Hyuck,” Jaemin grits out and Donghyuck glances up at him, hair plastered to his forehead. Jaemin rolls his hips as best he can when being pinned down by Donghyuck’s weight and hands. “Come on, please—”

“I can’t believe,” Donghyuck says jerkily, the words cutting off as his rhythm only increases. “That it took a dick in you to finally say the word please.”

Despite himself, Jaemin huffs out a sharp laugh and unclenches his hand from the sheets to tug harshly at Donghyuck’s hair, yanking him closer. “Knot me,” he hisses, chest heaving. “Before I _bite_ your dick off.”

Donghyuck’s pupils blow wide and Jaemin only manages to feel the superiority for half a second, as his half hard knot nudges at his rim, before Donghyuck’s hand smacks the inside of his thigh, making him gasp and clench around Donghyuck. Donghyuck snaps his hips in, slamming into his prostate, wrenches Jaemin’s legs back, to the point where it hurts and slaps his inner thigh again and that’s all it takes. Jaemin comes with a yell, his whole body twisting up, clenching and tightening, the world whiting out behind his eyelids. He feels Donghyuck come barely half a second later, knot shoving into him painfully and filling Jaemin up completely. Jaemin gasps, clamping down around it and comes again, another orgasm rolling through him like a tidal wave, crashing over his senses and Donghyuck collapses against him, hands gripping his waist, as Jaemin shudders through the aftershocks, cock still weakly spitting out come.

Something in him finally settles, even though he’s still completely out of it, and Jaemin manages to peel his eyes open to see Donghyuck plastered against him, his hair stuck to Jaemin’s neck and chest, face pressed into his neck, panting harshly. The urge to bite him sweeps so hard over Jaemin it shakes him. The good kind — the true kind. He wants to sink his teeth into Donghyuck’s neck, wants to return all the bruises Donghyuck has left on him twice over. Jaemin’s cock twitches and he clenches around Donghyuck accidentally and Donghyuck groans, rutting into him. 

“You’re gonna make my dick fall off if you carry on like that,” he says hoarsely picking his head up to look at Jaemin. His arms tremble and Jaemin raises an eyebrow to himself. And Donghyuck had the audacity to complain about Jaemin’s lack of strength. 

“That would be ideal,” he says instead. 

“Not until this is over, it wouldn’t,” Donghyuck mumbles, planting his face back down on Jaemin’s shoulder making the air whoosh out him. 

“Fuck,” Jaemin realises. “I’m stuck with you.”

“That you are,” Donghyuck says, though he doesn’t sound too torn up about it. Why would he? Jaemin’s the one who’s going to suffer for the next couple of days; Donghyuck just gets to stick his dick in him whenever he wants to. “Are you okay?” 

Jaemin sighs. “Don’t get all soft on me,” he says. “I’m fine.” 

“Great,” Donghyuck says and shifts just barely to comfortable. It’s enough to make Jaemin hiss, however, Donghyuck’s knot tugging uncomfortably at his rim. “Wake me up when you wanna go again.”

Without thinking Jaemin’s hand lands in Donghyuck’s hair, and he blinks down at it, as if it were controlled by something other than his brain before he loops his fingers through the long strands. “I hate your hair. It looks like a swamp is living on your head.”

Long hair doesn’t suit Donghyuck. He looks too loose, too free. His cheeks look thinner too. Jaemin blinks, wondering where that last thought came from.

“Mhmm,” Donghyuck hums, sounding too close to sleep already. Jaemin narrows his eyes down at him as if Donghyuck see out of the back of his head. “I hate yours too, asshole.”

🌧

Jaemin wakes, his whole body throbbing, a fire burning its way from the inside out. He groans and tries to shift, only to collapse against the sheets uselessly. He turns his head only to find Donghyuck uselessly passed out beside him, mouth open and snoring a little. Jaemin snorts. What a stupid excuse for an alpha. 

He manages to turn over, just enough that his fingers brush the water bottles sitting on the nightstand and takes a gulp of cool water. The heat in him, abated for a brief moment after Donghyuck knotted him, is raging back again. Jaemin groans and pokes Donghyuck until he’s shifting, snarling lightly at Jaemin as he continues to wake him up. 

“You’re gonna make me bruise, asshole,” Donghyuck mumbles. 

“Do I look like I give a shit?” Jaemin demands. “Get your knot in me.”

Donghyuck groans loudly. He turns around to fumble for his phone and what he sees makes him drop his head against his pillow dramatically. “Min-ah, it’s three fucking forty five in the fucking morning.”

“Heats wait for no one,” Jaemin manages in a singsong voice, wondering where he’s suddenly got the energy from. “Come on alpha, be _useful_.” He grits his teeth as another wave sweeps over him and pokes Donghyuck again.

Donghyuck sighs and wraps an arm around his waist, tugging Jaemin into him so they’re front to back. He can feel Donghyuck’s chest rise and fall against his back, unsteady. Because of him. Because of Jaemin. 

“Don’t you dare fall asleep,” Jaemin warns, as Donghyuck guides his leg up and back, before sliding back in, his cock fitting in easy as breathing. Jaemin lets out a soundless gasp and swallows hard, arching his back to let Donghyuck fuck deeper into him, his cock filling him up in all the best ways. 

“Shush, Min-ah,” Donghyuck says, his voice disturbingly warm and sleepy. “Let me take care of you.” Jaemin lets himself sink into it, and lets himself fall. For now, he’s content to let Donghyuck lazily thrust into him, hand clenching his thigh, his waist, and drowning him in his scent. Jaemin tips his head back, seeking the press of Donghyuck’s mouth and somehow, Donghyuck understands, even in this nonverbal, hazy moment. 

Donghyuck’s mouth presses against the pulse point of his neck, but doesn’t go any further, just breathes soft pants against the plane of his skin that send tingles down Jaemin’s spine and his hands clench in the sheets, just on the edge of being breathless. His thrusts never really speed up, just maintain the same, lazy attitude. It’s enough though, even though it irritates Jaemin beyond telling, enough to slowly send him over the edge, just like the first few rocks petering off the edge of a cliff before an avalanche. 

“Hyuck,” Jaemin chokes out, pressing his face into the pillow and sucking in a deep breath. “I’m- I’m gonna come.” Donghyuck just hauls his leg higher, fucking in, one long smooth thrust and whispers, in a low throaty voice, that sends shivers down his spine, “Come on Min-ah.” Jaemin can _hear_ his smile when he says, “Come for your alpha.”

Jaemin shudders all over and comes, hard and aching, cock spitting come against the sheets, creating a new wet spot to avoid later. Pleasure wracks him, sweeping over his whole system. He feels Donghyuck groan, mouth pressing harder against the swell of his neck, hand clenching into the space between his ribs, fingers digging into the grooves as he comes, knot locking into Jaemin as he clenches around him. “Fuck,” Jaemin sighs, shifting his hips back minutely, pleased when Donghyuck groans, jerking, trying to fuck his cock in further. He doesn’t get anywhere, obviously, they’re tied together for the time being. It’s headying, the way Donghyuck’s come fills him up, his knot instantly abating the painful swell of Jaemin’s heat. Headying and infuriating. 

Donghyuck’s mouth drops away from him and Jaemin keenly feels the loss. He pushes the feeling away, choosing to drown in contentment as his muscles finally unlock and he slumps into the sheets, leaning against Donghyuck’s cool body.

“Don’t ever say that shit again,” Jaemin says finally, referring to the phrase Donghyuck had said right before Jaemin came. _For your alpha._ As if. Donghyuck hadn’t even been his alpha when they were dating and now they were the furthest point from that.

Donghyuck laughs, a soft huff of air hitting the back of Jaemin’s neck. “You liked it,” he says and his arm drapes across Jaemin’s waist, tugging him closer, adjusting the way they’re locked together. “Go to sleep, Min-ah,” he continues, sounding sleepy again, the millisecond of cockiness fading out of his voice. “I know you’re gonna be up again in a few hours.”

That’s three times. 

Jaemin doesn’t mention it. He lets his eyes slip shut and presses his nose into the pillow that smells like it’s been bathed in a bucket of Donghyuck’s scent. 

Sleep comes easily. 

🌧

There’s not a lot Jaemin remembers, once the peak of his heat hits but snatches come back to him in flashes, tinged in a red haze. 

“Don’t kiss me,” Jaemin slurs when Donghyuck pushes back his thighs until his knees hit his chest. His cock slides back in and Jaemin moans throwing back his head. He feels so sensitive all over, it feels like his body is trembling, holding on for dear life.

Donghyuck scoffs. “Wasn’t planning on it.” He rears back and slams in and in return, like a symphony, instruments pulling and reaching back and forth from each other, a melodious give and take, noises spill helplessly out of Jaemin, hovering in the air between them, fading music notes. 

“Good,” Jaemin says and he looks at Donghyuck, blinking away the painful tears that rise when his orgasm evades him, bouncing just out of reach. Donghyuck is looking straight at him. It makes Jaemin dizzy. Dizzier than he already is. _I don’t want you to_ , he wants to say but the words twist away into a curling fog, as Donghyuck’s cock spears into him. Jaemin thinks he might be losing his mind, just a little. 

Another flash of memory:

“Where are you going?” Jaemin mumbles, blinking awake, slipping from sleep to wakefulness in mere seconds. 

His heat isn’t raging again yet, but it’s close enough that Jaemin feels the loss keenly when Donghyuck slides out of bed, leaving the other side empty.

Donghyuck glances back at him as he reaches the bedroom door. He’s pulled on underwear and a thin shirt and Jaemin can see goosebumps prickle on his thighs. He bites down on the urge to rip the clothes off Donghyuck but pushes off the covers instead. He doesn’t feel the cold at all. “I’m going to get some food,” he says in a soft whisper and Jaemin wonders why. It’s dipping into late evening, golden sunlight flowing through the open blinds and Donghyuck lives alone. No reason to be quiet. 

“I’m not hungry,” Jaemin says as if that were obvious. He rarely eats during his heats; it’s probably not a good thing, but it’s hard to keep things down when his stomach is constantly roiling, aching, his whole body screaming out to be sated. 

Donghyuck scoffs. “I am,” he says pointedly, and Jaemin flushes, retreating at that slight dismissal. He bats the feeling away as Donghyuck opens the door. “Give me two minutes,” Donghyuck promises. “I’ll be back quickly. Yell if you need me.”

_I plan on not needing you ever again,_ Jaemin thinks viciously, pride stinging from the faint rejection, but he pulls the covers back over him despite the sweat gathering at the base of his collarbones and turns around as best he can. 

He will never admit it, not to himself or Donghyuck, but the relief that crashes over him, making him curl into Donghyuck, when he returns to bed, a bowl of steaming rice and soup for Jaemin, is overwhelming. Jaemin shuts his eyes and presses his head into the pillow, forehead brushing against Donghyuck’s waist. He’s never wanted a heat to be over as badly as he does this one. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to eat?” Donghyuck asks softly and Jaemin flinches in surprise when his hand brushes over Jaemin’s forehead, sweeping back the sweaty hair. Donghyuck’s hand retreats. “Sorry.”

“No,” Jaemin mumbles but he doesn’t have the strength to draw Donghyuck’s hand back. It felt too good anyway. “It’s okay.”

Donghyuck doesn’t answer but he does shift marginally closer and Jaemin takes in a deep breath. Tries to calm the fire in his lungs. 

At some point, at the peak of his incoherency, Jaemin remembers clinging tightly onto Donghyuck as they fuck. It had been unhinged, but sweet, like syrup coating their bodies, trapping them together, clinging, sticky sweet. Jaemin remembers muttering something, again and again, and Donghyuck responding, his voice sweet and soft, mouth pressed to the curve of Jaemin’s neck, right above his carotid artery, as he’d taken over Jaemin’s senses entirely. It’s horrifyingly embarrassing when he thinks about it later, the way he’d gasped, nails dragging down the expanse of Donghyuck’s back while they’d fucked, in _missionary_ of all things. 

Jaemin wants to puke just thinking about it.


	2. take yourself home, falling apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i split the first chapter into two for my own sanity pls ignore this

🌧

The morning Jaemin’s heat breaks is a strangely cold one. 

He shifts in bed, a sense of relief pouring through him when he realises being awake isn’t accompanied by aching cramps and the sudden need to get a dick in him.

The bed beside him is empty, and Jaemin peers over the covers. It’s nearly afternoon, going by the sun and somehow, for August, it’s bracingly cold. Jaemin frowns, looking around Donghyuck’s bedroom. It barely looks any different from how Jaemin remembers it previously, just messier now. Donghyuck’s laundry is spilling out of his closet, and there are water bottles everywhere, half empty. The sheets are disgusting and Jaemin wrinkles his nose at the dried wet spots before carefully, climbing out of bed, wincing when his muscles protest at being used for the first time in days. 

The apartment is silent and Jaemin peeks his head out of the bedroom door cautiously, wondering if Donghyuck had just decided to abandon ship while he could before deciding to ignore it for now in favour of the hot shower that was waiting for him at the end of the hallway. 

When Jaemin gets out of the bedroom again, having grabbed whatever clean clothes of Donghyuck he could find, his own jeans smelling absolutely foul, he jumps when he sees Donghyuck in his kitchen, poking at some ramen, with a tired look on his face. He’s shirtless, _again_ , and Jaemin stares at the mess on his back, the scores of lines left by his nails before wondering why Donghyuck is without a shirt if he had clearly just come back from the store going by the reusable bags stacked around the kitchen.

“Hey,” Jaemin says and Donghyuck twists around.

“You’re up,” Donghyuck says, lifting a brow.

“Yeah,” Jaemin says. It’s so awkward all of a sudden; perhaps because all Jaemin can remember of the last four days is spending it in sin with his ex-boyfriend. “You went shopping?”

Donghyuck blinks and then startles, as if remembering he has food on the stove and turns around quickly pulling the ramen off the stove before it bubbles over. He cracks a couple of eggs into the pot and cautiously settles it back in its place. “Yeah,” he says. “I - there wasn’t much food and I thought you’d be pretty hungry when your heat finally broke.”

As if realising just then, exactly how deprived of food it has been, Jaemin's stomach growls viciously, loud enough that Donghyuck hears it.

Donghyuck looks at him and Jaemin tries his best not to flush. "Come on," Donghyuck says, jerking his chin over at the low table that sits in front of the TV.

"I can," Jaemin gestures vaguely at the door in a poor pantomime of leaving but Donghyuck doesn't even pretend to listen, just shoves the pot into Jaemin's hand and turns back around to grab them chopsticks and plates. "Thanks," Jaemin says when they're finally settled around the table. He's starving and the smell of spicy ramen is too good to leave behind, no matter how badly he wants to escape Donghyuck's apartment.

"You're welcome," Donghyuck mumbles. The tips of his ears are red. It's probably instinct, Jaemin realises; that godforsaken impulse to care for Jaemin after his heat has ended. Ingrained in the back of Donghyuck's brain. Jaemin heaves a sigh and ladles a huge chunk of ramen on to his plate. Instinct is an infuriating, _irritating_ little thing.

“Why is it so cold in here?” 

Donghyuck looks at him and then at the aircon unit on the wall as if it would spill its secrets. “You were burning up,” he says as if that was a given. “You told me to make it cold, you don’t remember?” 

Jaemin shakes his head.

They eat in silence, only the clink of chopsticks against the plates breaking the deafening quiet.

"You did laundry," Donghyuck says abruptly and when Jaemin follows his gaze, he sees Donghyuck staring at his sweatshirt - the sweatshirt that Jaemin currently has on. "My sheets," he elaborates when Jaemin just stares at him.

"Oh," Jaemin says. "Yeah. They were nasty."

"Because of you," Donghyuck points out and Jaemin narrows his eyes at him.

"I'm sorry, did I somehow dream all the times you came?" He asks. "Was having to dig your dried come out of my ass this morning a figment of my imagination?"

"There was no point in wearing a condom," Donghyuck says as if that were obvious. "It's not like you can get pregnant. Besides," he eyes Jaemin and Jaemin braces himself for whatever is about to come because _that_ is a smirk he does not like to be around. Especially when it's Donghyuck wearing it. "You explicitly _begged_ me not to."

"Oh, fuck you," Jaemin snaps, taking an angry bite of his ramen, hissing when the hot liquid hits the back of his throat. "You can't hold anything I said in heat against me. That's just being an asshole."

"Then we're finally playing on an even field," Donghyuck shoots back but he just seems amused. Probably at Jaemin's pain, the dickhead.

When Jaemin finally leaves Donghyuck's apartment, it is with no less awkwardness than there had been that morning.

"Well," he says, lingering in the doorway before shoving his hands in his pockets and biting the bullet. "Thanks, I guess."

Surprisingly, Donghyuck doesn't make fun of him. "You're welcome," he says, leaning his head against the door. "Get home safe."

Jaemin nods once and starts to turn away before remembering. "Oh, I'll bring your clothes back soon," he says, tugging at the collar of the hoodie he's wearing as if Donghyuck doesn't remember Jaemin is wearing his clothes.

"No," Donghyuck shakes his head, nearly seeming to choke on his words before he continues. "No, it's... Don't rush, it's fine." The gaze he levels at Jaemin's neck is searing and Jaemin feels caught under it, like the beam of a UFO, sucking him up into Donghyuck's space.

Jaemin clears his throat and forces his feet to move, taking a shaky step back. The magnetic force between them shatters and Donghyuck's eyes widen. He seems to realise what he was doing and mirrors Jaemin, backing up into his home, hand clenching tightly around the edge of the door.

"Cool," Jaemin says, for a lack of anything else to say, and flashes Donghyuck an insincere smile before he trips away, down the hallway, away from the pull of Donghyuck's gaze.

 _It's just the heat_ , he tells himself as he gets into the elevator, closing his eyes as the cart starts moving downward. Everything smells like Donghyuck, but it's not as intense as it was before. Muted but still tugging at the base of Jaemin's navel, like a rope tethered back at Donghyuck's apartment, all those floors away, trying to snap him back. _It's just the heat_. Just the lingering feelings. It'll vanish soon.

The elevator doors ding open and Jaemin heaves a giant breath, full of Donghyuck's scent wafting off his clothes and steps out. Just the heat.

🌧

"Stop judging me."

"I'm good. I think I'll keep judging you," Renjun says with a look on his face as if he's smelling something foul. "Donghyuck."

"He's _your_ best friend," Jaemin mumbles.

"Which is exactly _why_ I will be judging you," Renjun says. "You had a whole fucking _party_ of people and you chose your ex-boyfriend for your heat?"

Jaemin makes a face. "I was sexiled," he says, shooting a pointed look at Jeno who doesn't even look up from his laptop.

"I already apologised," he says. "Though, really, I don't have anything to apologise for because you've sexiled me dozens of times."

Jaemin bats this away. "Irrelevant.”

"We were _all_ there," Renjun points out, flipping his pen around in his fingers; not like they've done any work.

The semester had started a week ago and already assignments were piling up on them and so Jaemin had been dragged along to the library by a far more responsible Jeno to study, only to end up sitting here and being _judged_ like this.

Jaemin makes a face at him. “You’re telling me you would have fucked me?” He asks flatly. 

Renjun rolls his eyes. “Fuck no,” he says. “I have more self respect than that. But I wouldn’t have let you go crawling back to your ex.”

Jaemin tries not to flush. “I did not go _crawling back_ ,” he snaps. “I had no other options!”

“Chenle was there,” Jeno points out. “I’m sure he wouldn’t have minded.” 

Probably true, given that he and Chenle had helped each other through their ruts or heats in the past without any consequences but if Jaemin is being truthful with himself — and he often doesn’t like to be — he’d totally forgotten about any other option the second Donghyuck had grabbed his hand.

Jaemin shoots a narrow glare at Jeno, silently accusing him of dredging up such bullshit in his mind but Jeno isn’t even looking at him, just staring dreamily at his laptop screen. Probably thinking about his hookup. Jaemin kicks him in the shin and Jeno shoots him a mournful look as if betrayed that Jaemin pulled him out of his fantasy. 

“So, what are you going to do now?” Renjun asks. 

“Nothing?” Jaemin asks and when Renjun looks at him in disbelief, Jaemin throws his hands up in the air. “What the fuck am I supposed to do? We fucked, I left, that’s it, end of the story.”

“Nothing’s ever the end with you and Donghyuck,” Jeno mutters and Jaemin glares at him again. It has no effect whatsoever, Jeno isn’t even paying attention to him anymore, rapidly typing on his laptop like the disgustingly studious student he is. 

He’s not wrong though, as much as Jaemin would like to refute it. 

It’s always been hard to pull away from Donghyuck. 

🌧

Here’s the thing, okay. Donghyuck and Jaemin’s relationship hadn’t been that big of a deal - not in the grand scheme of things, certainly not even in the grand scheme of Jaemin’s _life_. They had dated for a grand total of seven and half months months, spanning a whole semester and some change before exploding, amazingly in June, just before summer started. In all honesty, the break up couldn’t have come at a better time. Jaemin’s friend group, in two words, was a Gordian knot that was inextricably tied together and they all spent an extraordinary amount of time together that probably wasn’t healthy. And a summer break had been much needed, the time away from everyone else _much_ needed.

When Jaemin thinks about the time he'd spent with Donghyuck, most of his memories are tinged in a haze of red, hot and cherry fun when it was good; irritating and making Jaemin feel like a bull with a red flag being waved at him when it was bad.

Donghyuck had asked him out like this: At an ice skating rink at the tail end of classes right before exams started, the Christmas decorations blazing in bright sparkling lights around them, fighting gravity the whole time as he struggled to balance on razor thin skates. Jaemin had spent most of his time laughing at a flailing Donghyuck before Donghyuck had sidled up to him at the side of the rink, cheeks flushed red, and a grin stretched over his mouth despite the number of times he'd fallen — much to the delight of his friends.

"Go out with me," he said, leaning into Jaemin’s space, ice scraped palms and fingers turning as red as the apples of his cheeks as he clung desperately to the wall, unsteady even when stationary.

Jaemin raised an eyebrow at him. "Why would I ever go out with someone who fell ten times in the last ten minutes?"

"Because I'm charming," Donghyuck said cheerfully. "And I'm hot, and you're hot. We could be hot together."

And no matter how much Jaemin hated to admit it, he had been charmed. "Fine," he said, eyeing Donghyuck up and down. An unexpected but not altogether unwelcome development. "One date."

Donghyuck shrugged and winked at Jaemin before trembling away on his skates. "That's all I need," he called before tripping over his skates and skidding for several heart stopping moments before he caught himself, sliding straight into an oblivious Jisung. Jaemin watched him go before he turned away, and ignored the smile that played about his lips.

Their relationship had been fun when it had been good. Donghyuck had been a fun challenge, a good person to have an argument with — just as fast as Jaemin and just as vicious, just as quick — and an irritatingly good fuck. Jaemin remembers their movie dates that more often than not ended with them in the bathrooms, Jaemin’s fingers stuffed into Donghyuck’s mouth to keep his noises muffled than it did with them finishing the movie fondly, even if he doesn't remember the rest of their relationship in the same way.

But it had also _sucked_ beyond belief when it had been bad. They were too similar, too fragile in the same ways and there was a reason, after all, that opposites attracted. Jaemin and Donghyuck were probably doomed from the start.

🌧

Donghyuck is sitting at their usual table when Jaemin turns around in the lunchroom, tray in hand. He pauses, jerking so hard, his soup spills over the edge, mixing into his rice and sausages.

Donghyuck's hood is pulled over his head, nodding every so often to something Jisung is nattering on about as he waves his hands in the air. Jaemin pauses, swallowing around a dry throat before he takes a deep breath and walks forward.

He isn’t a coward and he’s certainly not about to start being one because Donghyuck has stuck his dick in him and then stared at Jaemin’s neck like he wanted to devour him. Honestly, Jaemin wouldn’t have been opposed to being devoured — in that moment anyway.

They haven't seen each other since Jaemin's heat and that was weeks ago before the semester had even started. Now, Jaemin is drowning in assignments and exams and he doesn't have the energy to even deal with Jeno's new boyfriend trouble let alone try avoiding Donghyuck.

It is odd that they haven't seen each other yet, though. Their friends all spend too much time together to be healthy but all of their proper study sessions in the library, faux study sessions at the cafe where they get nothing done and spend too much money on iced coffee and late night dance practices that end with Jisung star fished over the floor, with Jeno flopped on top of him and Ten looking at them disapprovingly over the top of his phone, have been conspicuously empty, a Donghyuck shaped hole cutting through the crush of chatter and conversation, of limbs and laughter bandied about too loudly for their surrounds, sitting there starkly.

It occurs to Jaemin, when he sits down — Chenle dropping onto the opposite bench, having appeared from nowhere and immediately stealing all of Jisung's attention for himself — and Donghyuck flinches back, head snapping up and hood dropping off his head, his eyes widening when he sees Jaemin sitting across from him, that perhaps there was a reason for that Donghyuck shaped gap. That it was probably deliberate. 

“You dyed your hair,” Jaemin says without thinking. 

There’s a beat of silence. 

“Uh,” Donghyuck says, pushing upright, and running a hand through his now black hair. “Yeah, I - I did.” He looks nervous and it sits wrong on his face. Jaemin doesn’t know why it irks him. “Renjun did it for me, a couple of weeks ago.”

Jaemin interprets that to mean _After you acted like a pathetic lump of horny goo in my bed for five days straight._

Jaemin pushes his lips out in a flat imitation of a smile. _It looks good_ , that’s what he means to say. And it does. Renjun had done a good job. Short and choppy, pushed back from his forehead making the angle of his jaw seem sharper. His cheeks thinner.

Jaemin has dyed Donghyuck’s hair a couple of times himself — it’s how they had met, actually, in Renjun’s tiny ass dorm bathroom while Renjun and Jeno fought over the merits of going blonde. Jaemin had just been there to enjoy the show and steal Renjun’s snacks but then Donghyuck had shown up, like a whirlwind, clutching five different colours, and a couple bottles of soju he’d stolen from his friend and all of them had suddenly ended up dying their hair — the perfect, sane response to midterms stress. 

A bonding experience like no other.

“You look like a fuckboy,” is what Jaemin ends up saying. “Why the fuck did you decide resembling a Chad would be the best impression to make? It’s already hard to tolerate you.”

Donghyuck blinks and then recovers impressively, leaning against his chair and mouth fluttering in a poor imitation of a smile. “I guess it fits,” he says lightly. “Given that you were the boy I was fucking recently.” His eyes flick up and down restlessly. “For however that definition fits you, I guess.”

Jaemin’s jaw clenches. 

That was a low blow and Donghyuck knows it. He knows Jaemin’s insecurities, no matter how deeply they are hidden — too similar, the both of them — and it’s a low blow to slam it right in Jaemin’s face. For such a harmless comment. 

Donghyuck’s scent recedes a little, in apology, the strong aura he always casts dissipating briefly in the face of Jaemin’s reaction. Jaemin tries not to betray any knowledge of it happening; he doesn't want Donghyuck to realise he’s just as attuned to him as he was five months ago — in the depths of their relationship. Jaemin wonders what he smells like right now, how his body is betraying him as a response.

“Hyung,” Jisung voice breaks into their bubble, high and excited. “Oh my god, hyung, you don’t have any plans for the fall break right?”

It takes Jaemin longer than he would like to admit to tear his gaze away from Donghyuck’s to look at Jisung’s expectant face. “What?” He asks, clearing his throat when his voice catches. 

“Fall break, hyung,” Jisung says impatiently. “It’s in a few weeks.”

It is, Jaemin realises, glancing at his phone for the date. Somehow, without realising it, he’s made it through a quarter of the semester, relatively unscathed. It’s mostly due to the fact that this year is the most important for Renjun and Jeno as they try to find internships that will guarantee them jobs when they graduate and thus they have no time to go to parties, or do much of anything that doesn’t involve slowly losing their minds in the back stacks of a library. Therefore, Jaemin has also not been to any parties. He wouldn’t have needed company to go, if he’s being honest, but the last party he’d been to, he’d ended up alone, on the brink of a heat, and in the hands of his stupid, bumbling ex and Jaemin’s kind of wary of allowing himself to be put in the same position again. But fuck if he doesn’t badly need a drink.

“What about it?” 

Jisung purses his lips at him and Chenle snickers at his annoyance. “We’re planning a beach trip — you’re coming right?” 

Without thinking about it, Jaemin glances at Donghyuck. Thankfully, he’s not looking at them, just slowly unwrapping a single triangle kimbap, the seaweed crackling loudly even through the din of a hundred college students in the cafeteria. “I don’t know, Jisung,” Jaemin says looking back at him. “I have a lot of work.”

Jisung rolls his eyes. “Like you couldn’t fail out of college this week and still have a job waiting for you.” 

Jaemin narrows his eyes. “Don’t be rude, brat,” he says, tugging hard on Jisung’s cheek, grinning when he yelps and swats at Jaemin’s hand, scooting back in his chair, cheek in hand and scowling at Jaemin. 

“It’s not like it isn’t the truth,” Jisung says mulishly before he instantly transforms, eyes widening and sweet peppermint scent spilling over Jaemin, like fog covering the horizon. “Please,” he pleads as if he isn’t being blatantly manipulative right now. “We’re all gonna go, you can’t be the only one staying behind.”

“You just asked me!” Jaemin exclaims. “You _just_ came up with the idea.”

Jisung waves this away as if it's irrelevant. “Chenle will convince Renjun and Jeno to go,” he says. “And Donghyuck hyung is gonna get Mark on board.” 

“Am I?” Donghyuck asks, still idly playing with the flaking seaweed on the side of his kimbap rather than eating it. He doesn’t look up at any of them. 

Chenle rolls his eyes. “I think we can get the rest of the dance team there too,” he tells Jisung. 

Jisung’s eyes round. “Your house can hold that many people?”

Chenle just shrugs in response before he latches onto Jaemin with a tiny smirk. “That means Yiren will be there, and Jaemin will come, right, hyung?”

The crinkle of seaweed stops and for a moment, Jaemin’s heart stutters. 

_I’m never sleeping with you again._ Jaemin glares at Chenle who’s smirk only grows as if he knows exactly what Jaemin is thinking. “It’s not about —” the name gets stuck to the inside of Jaemin’s throat like saltwater taffy, sucking the words back down into the cavern of his throat where so many unsaid sentences, half bitten off phrases go to hide, to sneak behind aching vocal cords and raw muscle. Where Jaemin secrets away all of his truths. “I have exams.”

“Midterms end before break,” Chenle says, easy as pie. 

Jaemin sits back in his chair, kicking the front two legs off the ground and crossing his arms. “Fine,” he says tightly. “I’ll come.”

Chenle’s scent spreads with his smile, strong and harsh, triumphant and Donghyuck bristles in answer, and for a brief second Jaemin is overwhelmed by saltwater and sandalwood slamming into each other, clashing in the worst way, and involuntarily, Jaemin's fingers dig into his ribs, trying to keep himself calm. His gut roils. 

It’s Jisung who breaks the stalemate. “Stop that,” he says with a grimace, incredibly leaning into their small circle. It's all Jaemin can do to keep his expression neutral, to keep his seat. “You’re drawing attention and I can’t breathe with you two stinking up everything.”

Jaemin honestly can’t tell with the way he’s completely overwhelmed right now but it must be flooding the whole lunchroom. He spies a few glances shot their way, curious, some irritated and slams his chair back down, snapping Donghyuck and Chenle out of their silent pissing match. Their warring scents vanish abruptly and it's like a vacuum has sucked all the air out of their space.

"I'm leaving," Jaemin announces and grabs his bag. "I have class."

Jisung just waves at him, looking a little concerned, and Chenle grins, easy and pleased. Always starting shit he has no interest in finishing. Jaemin glowers at him. He goes to leave but turns back around, and shoves his untouched tray over at Donghyuck, the soup slapping over the sides of the bowl and splashing over the kimchi. "Stop littering seaweed all over the table and eat something nutritious," Jaemin snaps, irritated to the maximum before he stalks away, refusing to look at Donghyuck or the others.

He feels Donghyuck's eyes on him, sitting like a brand on the back of his neck. The smell of chilies, sweet and warm wafts around him for a brief moment before Jaemin rounds the corner and it vanishes.

🌧

Midterms week slams into Jaemin like a freight truck.

More than once Jaemin considers just taking Jisung's 'advice' to heart and dropping out. He doesn't need college — not really. There's a whole world waiting for him, simply based on the last name he bears and the black matte credit card in his father's name. But Jaemin doesn't want to do things the easy way. Especially because he quite likes the freedom college affords him — freedom he would not otherwise get in his family or in the meetings he would have been shoved into four years earlier if he had not fought tooth and nail to go college, despite only having one choice of major to take.

Business was not interesting, nor was it particularly difficult but somehow, this time, Jaemin's classes had all convalesced together into the perfect storm, slamming him with assignments and exams and presentations with lacking groupmates to prepare in two weeks. He doesn't even have the luxury of anticipating a break after this particular hell is over. Jaemin is going to spend his break avoiding Donghyuck and managing the messy heptagon that made up his immediate friend group.

At least there's the possibility of drowning himself in the ocean. That's an oddly cheering thought.

Wednesday evening finds Jaemin in the library. He's sitting all the way in the back, by the windows overlooking the city, up on the fifth floor, where even a pin drop was met with a nasty look. He has a major presentation that makes up most of his grade for his marketing class tomorrow and his group members have proven themselves to be utterly useless. And Jaemin, for all of his languidness, does not like to fail.

Evening melds into night, melds into even later night and still, Jaemin doesn't move. He's flipped from his presentation to his homework as a bit of a mental break. Even thinking that causes him distress. This is Jaemin's life now.

He's pretty sure he misses dinner because by the time Jaemin actually glances up from his computer for the first time, rubbing his dried and aching eyes, his stomach is growling something fierce. The library locks its doors after ten and it's fifteen minutes past. If Jaemin leaves now, he won't be able to come back in and if he goes home, he won't get anything done.

Jaemin tugs off his sweatshirt, sweating in the cloying heat of the library, and balls it up, pushing his laptop back and resting his head on the table, his hoodie under him as a makeshift pillow. He sets an alarm for twenty minutes, quiet enough that it won't disturb the others on the floor and lets his tired eyes drift shut.

Twenty minutes — it'll be long enough to distract his stomach from annoying him with hunger and short enough so that he can keep working.

Twenty minutes.

Jaemin wakes what feels like seconds later to a thump and the sharp scent of something he can't yet recognise filling his nostrils. He sits up, groggily, scrubbing at his eyes and sliding out an airpod to see Donghyuck standing above him, Jaemin's phone in his hand, alarm silenced.

"What 're you doing here?" Jaemin mumbles.

"I was studying," Donghyuck says in a whisper. It's strangely soft and Jaemin wonders at it before he remembers they're in a library. "Your alarm was ringing. Loudly."

"Oh." Jaemin yawns and shoves his hoodie back on. He flips his laptop open and just as his screen flickers to life, a low battery warning catching his attention, his stomach growls loudly.

Donghyuck looks unimpressed. "Did you eat?"

"No," Jaemin says shortly, digging around in his backpack for his charger and leaning back over his chair to plug it into the ground outlet. He's too tired to deal with Donghyuck today.

When he sits back upright, Jaemin catches sight of Donghyuck's eyes somewhere around his exposed navel before they snap back up.

"Stay here," Donghyuck says, ears misting red, before he's stalking away, his backpack and laptop abandoned on the table and yanking his hood over his head.

Jaemin frowns after him. Irrationally, he considers walking out of the library right then and there just to piss off Donghyuck but he's too tired and too stressed to do anything of the sort. Instead he just shoves his airpods back in and bends back over his presentation.

It's only a couple of minutes later that Donghyuck comes back, a huge paper bag clutched in his hand, that's tinged in oil on the sides and steaming warm. He drops it on the table before Jaemin and takes a seat opposite him. Jaemin doesn't even have time to blink before Donghyuck is dipping his hand into the bag and drawing out two massive burritos that look bigger than his head.

"Eat," Donghyuck says, rolling the burrito over the table at him. The reason for the oily bag becomes clear when Jaemin sees the box of nachos pulled out next. His stomach growls louder but Jaemin abandons his unfinished power point and yanks the burrito towards him.

"Thanks," he mumbles. He wonders how Donghyuck had gotten back into the library after it closed

Donghyuck doesn't reply, just shoves his huge clunky headphones over his head and opens his laptop. Jaemin feels a prick of annoyance at his nonverbal dismissal but it's washed away by the warm burrito filling his stomach.

He leans over to grab a chip from the open nacho box and shoots Donghyuck one last glance. He looks just as tired as Jaemin feels.

Jaemin looks back at his computer. He has work to get done.

🌧

The morning of their trip dawns bright and early. So fucking early.

Jaemin squints at the overcast dawn. He'd finished his last exam last night at eleven pm and had spent the next hour packing haphazardly while Jeno's snores rocked their apartment, even through his closed door. He’s exhausted, sleep deprived and hungry. All in all, not a good combination.

"Hyung!" Jisung calls, poking his head out the window as a car rolls up to the curb of their apartment. Jeno waves brightly as the car door pops open. Jaemin just gets a glimpse of Donghyuck in the front seat, fingers tapping rapidly on the wheel before Jeno throws the back door open and slides in, throwing his bag at Jaemin who has to drop his own on the pavement to catch it. 

“I’ll sit in the back,” Jaemin tries casting a look at the empty passenger seat. 

“Nope, I’m good,” Jeno says brightly and slams the door shut before Jaemin can even open his mouth. 

Jaemin narrows his eyes but stalks around the back to throw his things in the trunk. “Where are the others?” He asks as he opens the passenger side door. 

“Chenle’s coming up with Mark and Yukhei hyung and Ten hyung,” Jisung explains, bouncing excitedly in his seat. 

Jaemin’s sure this whole set up was probably Chenle’s idea and silently vows to drown him in the ocean. 

“Ready?” Donghyuck asks, looking into the rearview mirror. He does not look over at Jaemin. He pulls out onto the street after Jisung’s cheerful yes and Jeno’s more muted answer and tosses Jaemin the AUX cord as he turns the corner onto the main road. “Put on something good.”

“Says the guy with all of Justin Bieber’s albums downloaded,” Jaemin says derisively and Jeno snorts. 

Donghyuck rolls his eyes at him, surprisingly saying nothing, his mouth just quirking up faintly as Jaemin randomly clicks one of his old playlist. An acoustic guitar fills the car, thrumming through their bones and Jaemin leans his head against the headrest and looks out the window. 

Four hours. Four hours shut in a car with Donghyuck.

Maybe Jaemin should drown himself in the ocean with Chenle when they finally get there. 


	3. I ain’t got no time / to wonder how it might have been / if I had tried

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Take it,” Donghyuck says. “You’re cold.”
> 
> Jaemin blinks. He feels very thrown off all of a sudden, like he’s managed to get one foot off the tacky gum, and now he’s leaning back, off-balance, trying to escape its hold. “I don’t want your coat.”
> 
> The wind snaps over him then, a rush of freezing breeze, and Jaemin shivers. This must be the universe laughing at him. There was no other reason Jaemin had to be so constantly humiliated in front of Donghyuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> actually a new chapter today! woohoo! 
> 
> i finally made a [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4dt65qiuDY8jNudGJu2OjT?si=aNewhhkfQwC6xUtOwMhoFw):]
> 
> chapter title is from Pizza - OOHYO

_January_

“You’re hot,” Donghyuck says conversationally. Jaemin glances down, taking him in. He’s leaning against the wall, slumped slightly so that the height difference is marked. Donghyuck’s hands are dipping under his shirt, sweeping over his waist, his fingers hot like a brand over his skin.

Jaemin smirks. Donghyuck probably wouldn’t have said such a thing if he wasn’t drunk. Besides, Jaemin doesn’t feel so hot right now; he’s sweating, the party behind him raging to the fullest, and all the drinks he’d taken before and after pregaming are hitting him, making it hard to focus - but he agrees nonetheless. “I know.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes and drags him closer as if they’re not already plastered against the far wall together, half-hidden under the shadows. When Jaemin presses his fingers against the curve of Donghyuck’s jaw he can feel the bass pounding under his fingertips, rattling through Donghyuck’s bones and into Jaemin’s hand, his heart kickstarting to match the rhythm. Donghyuck leans up and presses his mouth to the shell of Jaemin’s ear, nipping slightly. “Wanna get out of here?” 

Jaemin snickers even as he tilts his head into Donghyuck’s hold. “Why are you so horny all the time?”

“It’s a gift.” Donghyuck’s lips travel down his neck and Jaemin shivers unconsciously. His mouth is warm, branding his skin, and Jaemin wonders if Donghyuck can feel his pulse quicken under his mouth, the blood rushing to meet the point his lips touch. “Seriously.”

“Seriously?” Jaemin pretends to think about it for a few seconds, but Donghyuck, impatient as he is, wraps his hands tightly around Jaemin’s waist and yanks him into an open-mouthed kiss. Jaemin pushes forward into it, stupidly eager for a moment, and Donghyuck’s back hits the wall with an audible thump. He gasps against Jaemin’s mouth and Jaemin presses his advantage, licking into his mouth using the scant inches he has on Donghyuck to block him in his arms.

“Don’t you know you shouldn’t cage in an alpha?” Donghyuck asks, when Jaemin peels away to suck at his jaw, a note of laughter in his voice. 

Jaemin glances up at him through his lashes. “Funny,” he hums thoughtfully. “I don’t see one here.”

Donghyuck’s eyes darken, and the thrill that runs through Jaemin is nothing short of euphoric. 

Jaemin’s back hits the door painfully but he doesn’t pay it any mind, too busy shoving his hands up Donghyuck’s shirt and pinching at his nipple, drawing a harsh breath out of him. Donghyuck’s hands are everywhere, roaming up his back, his arms, digging into his ass, yanking Jaemin into him. 

Their scents intermingle together and Jaemin’s head spins with it. “Are you gonna let me—” Donghyuck’s words get cut off when Jaemin shoves forward, slamming their lips together, and a feeling of pleasure slips up, crashing over him, like a tidal wave over a sea-soaked beach. “Jaemin-ah,” Donghyuck mutters, managing to yank back just far enough for Jaemin to see a glitter of amusement edging with lust. “We are _not_ gonna fuck against my front door when there is a perfectly good bed twenty feet away.”

Jaemin drops his hands and leans back against the door, putting a few scant inches of space between himself and Donghyuck. “Boring,” he states. “I thought you were supposed to be all about the adventure.”

Donghyuck wrinkles his nose. “Adventure, sure,” he says, and slides his hand past Jaemin’s waist, fingers brushing against his skin. Jaemin tries not to shiver; he’s not even naked yet and it would just be embarrassing. Donghyuck presses in his code, the numbers sounding awfully loud even over the sound of their heavy breathing, the shift of their clothes. “Unfortunately, showing my dick to my neighbours is not part of that agenda.”

The door falls open behind Jaemin and he stumbles, reeling in the thin air for a heart-stopping second before he catches himself, glowering at a very pleased looking Donghyuck. “That is not the way to get me to sleep with you,” Jaemin snaps. 

Donghyuck advances on him, canines shining,, kicking his door shut with a slam before he wraps his fingers around Jaemin’s shirt and yanks him down the hall into his dark bedroom. Jaemin lets him, if only because Donghyuck looks really hot right now, but he would rather die than admit that out loud. “I thought you wanted an alpha,” Donghyuck says teasingly, far more forgiving at the statement than some other asshole would have been in his position, and Jaemin rolls his eyes.

“And that involves knocking me on my ass?”

Donghyuck tugs at Jaemin’s shirt, pulling it up and off his body just as they collapse into a ruffled pile on Donghyuck's bed. Only a few months in, only a few times here, but Jaemin can already smell himself in the sheets, the way his and Donghyuck's scents intermingle sweet and piquant, tingling his nose as he takes a deep breath. 

Donghyuck props himself up beside him, his eyes shining, and leans in to kiss Jaemin, the moment transforming into something slow and careful the second their lips meet. Jaemin's eyes slip shut and he arches toward Donghyuck, mouth parting easily under the pressure. Donghyuck's tongue slides against his own and Jaemin is intent on giving as good as he gets, so much so that he doesn't notice Donghyuck's hand sneaking up his side until he's pinning Jaemin's shoulder back, straddling him in an instant.

Jaemin's mouth is very rudely ripped away from Donghyuck's, and he blinks for a moment in shock before looking up at a triumphant Donghyuck. "What—"

"Call me alpha," Donghyuck says, but with a quirk to his mouth that Jaemin knows not to take seriously.

He laughs and lets his head fall against the sheets. "Like hell," he says. "Not in a million years."

Donghyuck leans in teasingly, swaying in and out, his mouth dipping just out of reach. Props to him, it actually works. Jaemin's just on edge enough that he actually wants to lean up and kiss Donghyuck, wants to yank his shirt off and have his way with him until the world whites out behind his eyelids. But like hell he's giving Donghyuck that power. "Not even for a kiss?" Donghyuck pouts.

"Not even then," Jaemin says, propping himself up on his elbows just enough that they're mere millimeters from each other's faces. "I told you, I don't see one in front of me." He smiles sweetly. "And I'm not a liar."

Donghyuck's gaze darkens. "Guess I'll have to prove myself," he says, syrupy slow, fingers dancing over Jaemin's bare skin, raising goosebumps wherever his fingers brush.

Jaemin tilts his head at Donghyuck. "Guess you will," he says.

🌧

_Now_

“Okay,” Chenle says, looking ridiculous with huge sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose and drowning in his purposely beaten and faded hoodie. Jaemin amuses himself with the suspicion that Chenle’s probably horribly hungover. Serves him right for fucking Jaemin over with the driving arrangments. “Here are the rules: You throw up, you clean it up. I’m not making the staff do that shit for you. Second—”

Jaemin promptly tunes him out and casts a glance around Chenle’s beach house. It’s honestly more like a beach _mansion_ — sitting atop a craggy hill, with a winding path of worn wooden steps leading from the front door all the way down to the beach front where the water glitters in the chilly afternoon. Most of the dance team is there, only a few having gone back home to visit family. Jaemin catches sight of Donghyuck, arms looped around Mark’s waist and dozing off on his shoulder, and scowls. Dance team and a few unsavoury lichens it seems.

“Sleep wherever,” Chenle finishes saying with a careless wave of his hand. “There’s like eight bedrooms. Alcohol is in the silver fridge and food is in the black.” There’s a beat of silence where everyone looks at Chenle and Chenle looks so very done with this situation before he sighs. “Go away now.”

They all scatter. Jaemin just catches a glimpse of Yeri grinning over at him by the kitchen counter, Yerin by her side, before Jeno tugs at his arm.

“Come on," he says. "I think I saw a room with a Jacuzzi and I wanna steal it before Renjun tries to get his hands on it."

Jaemin lets himself be towed away by Jeno and up the stairs, glancing back only to see Donghyuck watching him. Jaemin doesn't shiver as he rounds the corner. He _doesn't_.

Despite not having done any of the actual driving himself, Jaemin is exhausted. He’d barely slept the night before and he collapses on the huge bed, still clothed, and immediately passes out. On the fringes of his consciousness he hears the shower turn on and Jeno’s music play, his warbling muted through the sound of the water. The door shuts gently, muffling the sound entirely, and then Jaemin’s gone. 

He wakes just as the sun is dipping down into view of the open balcony doors. The curtains wave in the sea breeze that drifts through, and if Jaemin picks his head up ever so slightly, he can see the ocean, shimmering through the gaps in the wrought iron railing that loops all around the balcony. Jaemin drops his head back down. Chenle’s family was insane. 

The bedroom door opens and Jaemin rolls around, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as Jeno tentatively tiptoes in. He drops that affect the second he sees Jaemin awake. “Oh good, you’re up,” he says, crossing over to his bag and grabbing a hoodie. “Come on, we’re going into town to eat.”

“Who’s we?” Jaemin groans, stretching out languidly. This house may be drama levels of crazy rich but Jaemin appreciates the thought put into the mattresses. 

Jeno rolls his eyes. “Your boyfriend isn’t coming,” he says, far sassier than Jaemin appreciates. He misses the sweet Jeno of his childhood, not this muscled menace who hides all of his mischief behind the same cute smiles.

Jaemin flushes. “He’s not my boyfriend.” Not anymore. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Jeno says, hovering at the door, yanking on his hoodie and knocking his hat off in the process. “Get downstairs fast or you’ll have to fend for yourself.” 

Jaemin could totally do so. He’s not as helpless as _some_ of his friends in the culinary department, but Busan is famous for its local seafood, and Jaemin’s just not in the mood for three packs of ramen that he’ll regret in the morning when he wakes up looking like a puffer fish. 

The true beauty of Chenle’s house is revealed when Jaemin gets downstairs, slipping on the polished floors in his socks and tugging the sleeves of his shirt down over his hands as the cool breeze hits him in the face, smelling strongly of salt and brine. The living room sits overlooking the sea, large floor to ceiling windows bared to the setting sun, coating everything inside in a sheen of glittering gold. Most of the windows are thrown open to let the air circulate in and if Jaemin closes his eyes, it feels like he’s standing right there, on the edge of the beach.

“Wow.” 

Jaemin silently agrees to Jisung’s hushed exclamation. 

Jisung looks at Chenle. “Why do you have a house here?” He asks incredulously. “You live in Seoul. Your parents live in China.”

Chenle shrugs. “My mom wanted a beach house. She liked this one.” And with that ridiculous statement, as if his family hadn’t just casually tossed a couple billion won at a house that sat unoccupied for most of the year, he shoves his sneakers on and steps out. Jaemin casts an incredulous look at Renjun, who just shrugs as they follow him out, the door locking automatically behind them as they go.

“Where’s everyone else?” Jaemin asks when he sees only their immediate friend group outside. 

“The hyungs decided to go somewhere secret,” Mark says with a wiggle of his fingers. “And I think the girls went to go eat way earlier.”

“We were all waiting for you, Sleeping Beauty,” Renjun says and someone snorts.

Jaemin shoots a warning look at Jeno, who doesn’t even bother looking contrite for his blatant lie, before turning back to Renjun, dutifully ignoring Donghyuck who’s only a couple of steps behind them. “I didn’t get much sleep last night,” he says. “I had a late exam.”

The silence from behind is far more telling than anything else really. Jaemin wishes he could be a little more denser about the unignorable presence that Donghyuck projects. It would make life so much easier. 

🌧

It gets progressively colder on the trek up to the town. They’re in a sparse little side of the ocean, a few luxury houses scattered over the sloping grassy hill. The surrounding town is about half a mile inwards, but until they reach there, there’s nothing blocking them from the crisp wind of the sea. Jaemin shivers a little, ducking closer to Jisung and pulling his sleeves down further over his hands as if that would help any. 

“You should have dressed better, hyung,” Jisung mutters, but he doesn’t begrudge Jaemin the opportunity of sinking into his side, just shifts to accommodate him. 

“I didn’t realise it would be this cold,” Jaemin grouses, shifting further behind Jisung’s frame just as another sweep of cool air hits them, sneaking between the holes of his thin shirt like mice scurrying into cracks at the height of winter. 

When they finally reach the nearest restaurant, the easel sitting out front boasting fresh seafood and the best pork rice soup this side of the country, it’s blessedly warm. Jaemin shudders, finally peeling off Jisung as they settle on the mats, peering at the menu bolted above the register. 

They all order the same thing and wait in silence, too hungry to start up a conversation, sitting quietly around the table. Jaemin’s not sure about the rest of them, but aside from a short ten-minute stop at a rest area where he’d loaded up on sugar gummies and coffee, Jaemin hadn’t eaten anything else for the rest of the day and the smells coating every inch of the restaurant are almost too much for his poor stomach to bear. On the opposite corner, Donghyuck looks half-asleep against Mark again, and Jaemin wonders if he’d napped or not in the afternoon before batting that thought away. It’s not his problem to worry nor is it to care. 

Instead, he props his chin on his hand and deliberately looks out the window. The sun is almost gone now, just the last slivers of light teasing through the small windows of the place, glinting like jewels sinking down into the ocean, only to rise again the next day. 

“Here you are.”

Jaemin looks up as the ahjumma hands out steaming bowls of pork and rice and gratefully smiles at her, taking two in his hands and passing one over to Jisung beside him. Bowls of rice wine follow and Jaemin considers it, before convincing himself that he won’t get past tipsy and tips it back into his mouth. Chenle looks faintly green as he nudges his bowl away from him and Jaemin hides his smile in a mouthful of noodles.

Only when half the food has been demolished does the conversation start to flow again. Jeno asks Mark about his classes, and he pulls such a painful face that Jeno chokes on his food, giggling. Jaemin relates, honestly. His classes might not be that difficult but it’s still not fun to think about the pile of assignments sitting back in his apartment, waiting for him when he gets from this trip, probably drunk and hungover at the same time. 

🌧

By the time they leave the restaurant, stomachs pleasantly full and feeling wobbly and warm from the wine, night has fallen, coating thick and black, showers of stars hanging bright and full in the full sky. So much brighter than back in Seoul. It feels like the whole universe is sitting right above his head, yawning wide, a chasm just waiting for Jaemin to drift up, fingers aching, reaching to just brush the stars before it can swallow him whole. 

Jaemin tips his head back, rocking back and forth on his heels as he looks up at the sky. The wind sweeps over him and he shivers a little, the warmth from the restaurant fading fast from his limbs. 

He thinks, in that moment, it would have been perfectly okay to have been swallowed by the sky.

His friends brush past him, certainly far drunker than Jaemin was, chattering loudly, their cheeks bright red and words slurring off their bitten lips. 

“Come on,” Mark says, stumbling to a stop beside Jaemin, tipping his head at him. “It’s only gonna get colder.” 

“Mmm yeah,” Jaemin says, still looking up at the stars as Mark hops down the stairs and stumbles straight into Chenle who giggles, seeming to have finally recovered from his hangover. 

The sound of the restaurant door shutting, whisking away the last vestiges of warmth, makes Jaemin turn around. And there stands Donghyuck, half shadowed by the planes of the roof, cutting across his face. His cheeks are pink, even in the low light, and an edge of calm is wrapped around him. None of that tension from before. The wine had done its work then, rounding out the curve of his shoulders and loosening the tense strain of his limbs. His lips are bitten; he must have been chewing on them. A habit, Jaemin knows — and at the same wishes desperately he didn’t know — that only comes out when he’s stressed.

Jaemin doesn’t say anything. Neither does Donghyuck. It feels a little absurd to be standing there, staring at each other in silence, but something keeps Jaemin there, like long tossed-away gum clinging to the bottom of his sneakers, holding him down, tethering him to this spot. He can’t reach the stars like this.

A call reaches them from the bottom of the street, impatient and annoyed, where Jaemin knows their friends are waiting.

Donghyuck moves only then, pulling off his huge coat and holding it out to Jaemin. 

Jaemin stares at it, uncomprehending. “What?” 

“Take it,” Donghyuck says. “You’re cold.”

Jaemin blinks. He feels very thrown off all of a sudden, like he’s managed to get one foot off the tacky gum, and now he’s leaning back, off-balance, trying to escape its hold. “I don’t want your coat.”

The wind snaps over him then, a rush of freezing breeze, and Jaemin shivers. This must be the universe laughing at him. There was no other reason Jaemin had to be so constantly humiliated in front of Donghyuck. 

But Donghyuck’s expression doesn’t change. He just thrusts the coat at Jaemin before brushing past. Jaemin quickly grabs the coat to keep it from hitting the ground, but Donghyuck is already walking down the hill by the time he turns around. He pauses halfway down and turns to look up at Jaemin. 

“Come on,” he calls, voice carrying over the breeze, sweeping through Jaemin’s hair, his clothes, his skin. 

Jaemin looks at him and Donghyuck looks back. His eyes gleam in the moonlight. Slowly, Jaemin pulls the coat over his shoulders, sighing a little when the residual warmth of Donghyuck’s body seeps into him and zips it up. There’s something odd about the scent, Jaemin realises when he takes a huge breath, setting off down the hill to a waiting Donghyuck. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but it’s there, just hanging out of reach, chilies and sandalwood dancing on the fringes of his memory. 

Donghyuck waits until Jaemin reaches him and they walk down together, only the dark streets, the moon, and the breeze of the sea a witness to the way Donghyuck’s fingers brush against Jaemin’s once before they’re gone. 

🌧

_October - Last Year_

Dance practice ends sometime past midnight and Jaemin sinks to the floor panting and sweating. His clothes stick to him unforgivably and he grimaces, pulling his shirt away from him. The rest of them are in a similar state of disarray, sprawled out on the sticky floor. Ten, incredibly is the only one left standing and he grins at them, shark’s smile glinting in the low light of the studio. 

Half of their dance team is gone for midterms so the room feels a lot emptier. They’re not the only team on campus but they are the largest so by default they get the biggest room. On the occasion that they forget to reserve, the sight of Ten’s pleasantly threatening face. 

“Good job you guys,” he says, hopping over to his computer and flicking the music off. “Let’s do it all over again tomorrow.” A chorus of groans echo back at him and Ten just cackles. “Seriously, get home, take a shower, you all stink.”

“You don’t smell that great either,” Yangyang snipes from the back and Jaemin snorts levering himself painfully upright. He flushes when he realises Yiren is sitting beside him, looping her hair into a ponytail. 

Ten throws open the door to air out the room and Jaemin glances up to see Donghyuck bounce in, looking irritatingly refreshed. Ten scowls. “What are you doing here?”

Donghyuck grins at him, fluffing back his hair. “I came to pick up Jisungie,” he says cheerfully. “I promised I’d buy him dinner.”

“You’re not allowed in my dance practices anymore,” Ten says, scrunching up his nose. “Not after you dropped me.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “I had too many classes. You’re so dramatic.”

“You betrayed me,” Ten announces but he doesn’t kick Donghyuck out when he drops onto the floor by a sprawled out, clearly exhausted Jisung, just sniffs and whirls around to go bother Hendery until he screams and pushes him off.

Jaemin stomach grumbles loudly at the mention of dinner and beside him, he hears Yiren snicker.

“Maybe you should be the one getting free food,” she suggests, amused.

Jaemin flushes harder. Yiren’s grinning at him, sitting _right_ beside him and for a second, all of Jaemin’s very well built up suave and charisma disappears in a humiliating flash. “Um — yeah,” he says, trying not to choke on his own words. God, how does Yiren even smell that nice after two hours in a sweaty dance studio? “Maybe. Haha.”

He winces visibly but Yiren just seems amused. From behind them, there comes a soft snort and Jaemin knows, without having to turn around exactly who it belongs to. He desperately casts around for something to say before Yiren leaves. “How about you?”

“Hmm?” 

“Are you getting dinner? After practice, I mean.”

Yiren’s mouth curves up. “Is that your way of asking me out, Na Jaemin?” 

Jaemin blinks at her. “If you want it to be,” he says, managing to recover in a stunt that would have been lauded for days afterward had it been a category at the Olympics. Thank god.

Yiren laughs. “Don’t you have a girlfriend?” 

Jaemin frowns. “No,” he says. He hasn’t had a girlfriend since his first month of college, after he and Rena had ended their very ill advised relationship that had had its even more ill advised start in the back room of a frat party. 

“Lots of girls then,” Yiren teases, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you alone on campus.” 

“I’m alone now,” Jaemin points out with a tiny smile. “With you.”

Yiren laughs. “If you can call a studio with thirty other people alone, sure.” 

And before Jaemin can say anything else, before he can convince Yiren to actually go out with him one of these days, Yeji calls her name from the across the room and she shoots Jaemin a pretty smile in goodbye before bounding up and over to her. Jaemin stares after her before letting out a giant breath. Somehow, in the last ten minutes of conversation, he’s managed to gain more ground with Yiren than he had in the last three months. It wasn’t like Jaemin was all that invested in her, he’d only spoken to her for the first time at a party in August, before school started but Jaemin had liked her. She’d been funny, pretty, a little absurd but in a good way. 

And now, he can’t seem to form a sentence around her without sounding like a broken recorder. 

“Well that was utterly painful to witness,” a dry voice says lowly and Jaemin closes his eyes. Heaves another huge breath to gain some semblance of patience before he turns around to meet Donghyuck’s irritatingly gleeful grin. Jisung is nowhere to be seen. That’s something at least.

“Hello, Donghyuck,” Jaemin says, choosing not to respond to his statement. 

“Hello, Jaemin,” Donghyuck says cheerfully. “That was _so_ painful to watch. I honestly debated whether I should claw my eyes or my ears out to save myself from the misery of having to live through that.”

“Why not both?” Jaemin asks, baring his teeth at him in a poor imitation of a grin. If anything, it just lights Donghyuck up more. “Really, there’s no need for you to suffer so much on my behalf.”

“You’re so sweet, Jaemin. Always looking out for me.”

“That’s what I do,” Jaemin says blandly, glancing around for Jisung so he can escape this conversation. If there’s anyone on this world that he would have wanted to witness that conversation, Donghyuck would be at the very bottom of that list and Jaemin wants to escape with the last shreds of his dignity still clinging to his skin. 

Donghyuck just laughs before leaning in with a conspiratorial look. “No, but really, are you feeling okay?”

Jaemin frowns. “What do you mean? I’m fine.”

“I just thought you might be sick,” Donghyuck says, eyes wide and innocent but the smile that stretches across his face is oddly charming. “You know, so you’d have an excuse for flaming out like that.”

“Oh shut up,” Jaemin snaps flushing and Donghyuck cackles, throwing himself back on the dance floor. A bad choice, Jaemin thinks wrinkling his nose. A thousand different shoes have been on that floor, sweat and other gross fluids dripping onto it. Highly unsanitary but Donghyuck doesn’t seem to care at all.

“Ew hyung, don’t do that,” Jisung chides as he bounces up to them, sweeping back his sweaty hair and grimacing down at Donghyuck. “The floor’s nasty.”

“Eh,” Donghyuck shrugs but he sits up, running a hand through his hair. Jaemin looks away. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Jisung grins brightly. “Hyung, do you wanna come?”

Jaemin glances at Donghyuck whose gaze darts away the second Jaemin meets his eyes. Huh. That’s odd. Jaemin looks back at Yiren, who’s laughing with Yeji as she zips up her windbreaker, pulling her hair out of the collar before turning back. Donghyuck’s expression has gone a little tense now, and he’s fidgeting with his fingers. “Yeah,” Jaemin shrugs. “I’ve got nothing better to do, why not?” 

“What a stunning endorsement,” Donghyuck says and there’s something about the set of his smile that unsettles Jaemin. It’s not as easy going as it was mere seconds before. Donghyuck leans down and swings his backpack up onto his shoulder. “I’m not paying for you.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Jaemin says. 

🌧

_Now_

The beach is lovely when they finally trip down there in the early evening. Jaemin wonders what the locals might think at seeing twenty something college students running along the edge of the beach, shrieking with laughter when the ocean spray slaps over them, the fury of the sea still unencumbered even when it rushes upon the shore. 

It’s just on the edge of too cold to be at the beach. The wind blows brisk and bracing over them and Jaemin bundles himself into his coat — he’d returned Donghyuck’s coat early in the morning, hung on his doorknob so that Jaemin wouldn’t have to face him — grimacing as the wind whips through them. He thinks he might be getting sick which would just be the cherry atop this whole miserable ice cream sundae.

Chenle leaps into the ocean, Jisung close behind and Jaemin makes a face. Several others follow, though certainly less uninhibited, dipping their toes on the edge, pants rolled up to the calves. The hyungs have deigned them with their presence today and Jaemin watches Ten leap back, smashing into Yukhei and Kun with a yelp as a large wave slaps against his knees.

“You look like an old man,” Mark laughs, sitting down beside him.

“How are they even touching that water?” Jaemin asks, shoving his chin in the collar of his coat. “It’s freezing.”

“It’s actually not that bad,” Mark says. “The sun warmed it up a lot. It’ll get colder in the evening, though. You should try it out before it gets too dark.”

“Meh,” Jaemin murmurs. He glances at Mark. “How are you?”

“Me? I’m good, man,” Mark says cheerfully, leaning back on his palms. “It’s been a good year so far.” 

“Must be nice.”

Mark chuckles. “Yeah, I’m sorry.”

Jaemin tips his head on his knees and looks over at him. “What for?” Mark pauses, then bites his lip, looking awkward. “About you and Hyuck. It must have been rough on you.”

“It wasn’t,” Jaemin scoffs, affronted before he considers and asks semi-hopefully. “Was it rough on Donghyuck?” 

Mark looks at him, eyes wide and then laughs. “I’m not telling you that, dude,” he says. “That would break all kinds of bro codes.”

“We’re bros,” Jaemin points out, lip curling up at the term. 

“I’m not going to tell you,” Mark says again but his voice softens this time around. Jaemin rankles internally at the concern in his tone. “I think it’d just make you more sad, actually. And you seem really down these days, Jaemin.”

Sometimes, Jaemin wishes Mark wasn’t as empathetic as he was.

He swallows. His throat hurts something awful all of a sudden and even his coat doesn’t seem like it’s enough to keep him warm. “I’m not sad,” he says. “I’m… It’s been a rough couple of weeks, that’s all.”

“Yeah,” Mark sighs, sitting up and looping his arms around his knees, bringing them to his chest as he stares out at the sea. He looks classically handsome, hair swept back from his forehead, and eyes bright in the gleaming sun and Jaemin wishes, just for half a second that he’d fallen in love with Mark rather than his stupidly dense counterpart. Maybe the heartbreak wouldn’t have been half as bad, then. “Yeah, I know.”

🌧

They light a small bonfire by the beach when the horizon starts to pull over on itself, a blanket of dark, littered with stars carefully drawing over the horizon, shrouding the sun down into the sea. 

An almost heroic amount of booze is procured from Chenle’s fridge, and nearly the same amount of food ordered as they all sit around it, in a messy circle. Jaemin sits as close as he can without the danger of sparks catching his jacket and grins when Jeno drops down next to him, his hair damp from the ocean and a grin stretched over his face as he knocks his shoulder into Jaemin’s. 

“You should run around a bit,” Jeno says cheerfully. He’s just returned from the house, changing out of his previously very wet clothes into drier ones but Jaemin still marvels at his ability to sit there, on the freezing sand, in simply a tshirt and jeans, his sweatshirt abandoned on his lap, forgotten about. “You’ll warm up more.”

“No thanks,” Jaemin says, making a face. “I’m fine here.”

Jeno laughs again. “Want a beer?”

Jaemin nods and watches Jeno bound up, still so full of energy and around to where the cooler sits by Kun. Someone sits down next to him, on the other side and Jaemin doesn’t look over until they speak.

“You look ridiculous,” Yiren says, a note of laughter in her voice. 

Jaemin turns to her and feels a grin creep over his face. “You should make a club with Mark,” he says. “Apparently, making fun of me is all the rage nowadays.”

“Just try taking off the jacket?” 

Jaemin wrinkles his nose. “And freeze to death? No thanks.” 

“Well,” Yiren draws out. “Me and Yeri and Hendery were planning on taking a hike tomorrow morning. And if you’re gonna be a stick in the mud tonight, at least you’ll be sober and you can join us.” 

“Well, that sounds like hell,” Jaemin says flatly. 

Yiren laughs. “I know,” she says brightly. “But you got over your crush on me so I figured we could try being actually friends now.”

Jaemin flushes. “You noticed, huh.”

“Yeah,” Yiren drawls as Jeno comes back, a pizza box in his hands and four beer bottles in one hand. “You were pretty obvious.”

“Obvious about what?” Jeno asks brightly, passing one of the bottles over to Yiren who takes it with a pretty smile. 

“His gross crush on me last year,” Yiren says and Jeno snorts, perching the pizza box on his lap. 

“Oh yeah. He pretty much got over that the second Donghyuck started batting his lashes at him.”

Jaemin who had been in the process of leaning over to take a slice of pizza, pauses and glares up at him. “He did _not_ — Donghyuck — there were no lashes being batted!”

Yiren and Jeno laugh, loud enough that it attracts the attention of half the circle. Jaemin leans back on one of his hands and takes a grumpy bite of his pizza as they giggle between themselves.

As Jaemin lets his gaze wander, Yiren starts trying to draw Jeno into her terrible morning hike scheme, which was sure to fail. Yangyang was not a morning personnel matter how much Yiren seemed to have been convinced otherwise. On the other side, Jaemin’s pretty sure Ten is trying to convince Kun to do body shots off him right there on the sand. 

Then, across the fire, his eyes latch onto Donghyuck’s. The flames sputter in between them, dipping low enough that Jaemin can see Donghyuck in full, bathed in the orange golden light of the fire and his heart stutters when Donghyuck looks back at him. His jaw is tight, and he’s clutching onto his bottle with white knuckles. 

Then, Yiren asks him a question and Jaemin turns to her, confused, blinking away the afterimages of the flames dancing behind his eyelids.

“What?” 

“Do you want another beer?” Yiren asks, brushing the sand off her pants as she gets up. “I was gonna get some more.”

“Sure.” Jaemin hands her his empty bottle — which he didn’t even realise he’d drained — and watches her cross over the sand. When he looks back across the circle, Donghyuck’s gone. 

🌧

Later, Jaemin slips off his shoes and socks just as the sea starts cradling the last of the sun in its watery embrace and braves the freezing temperature of the ocean. It's bitingly cold and Jaemin shudders, all the warmth from the fire bleeding away into the water as it laps against his ankles, strangely subdued. It must be the tide dying down. 

It’s absolutely glacial but somehow, Jaemin doesn’t want to move away. 

The water splashes as someone joins him and Jaemin want to sink into the ocean with his whole being right then and there. But the silence persists. It should be uncomfortable, but it doesn’t. 

“When are you going to stop looking at me?” 

Donghyuck kicks at the water and Jaemin watches the ripples flow out into the ocean. “I’m trying not to,” he says and it sounds so subdued that Jaemin’s heart aches at it. 

“You were jealous,” Jaemin says. There’s a small fountain of delight that bubbles up in him when he utters those words. “Of Yiren? Still?” 

He still doesn’t look at Donghyuck but he can feel it when Donghyuck looks at him. “What exactly did you think was going to happen?”

Jaemin shrugs. “We broke up,” he says as if that should explain everything. As if all of Jaemin’s feelings had vanished the second the words had entered the air between them. As if it was all black and white for him. 

There’s a sigh that seems to come from deep within Donghyuck. “Yes. I know, Min-ah.”

Jaemin blinks and suddenly he’s being catapulted back months in time. Donghyuck calling him _Min-ah_ with that stupid grin on his face, yanking at Jaemin’s jacket as he tries to walk away from him and kissing the air right out of him. Jaemin lying on Donghyuck’s bed, fiddling with his photos and watching Donghyuck mutter to himself as he plays video games, almost shrouded in his huge chair, his shorts riding up his legs, honey thighs exposed to the world — but not the whole world, just Jaemin, he was just Jaemin’s and the swell of possessiveness that had welled up in Jaemin had caught him completely off guard. Donghyuck pressed up against him, a fresh bite mark standing out on his neck, a blissful look on his face as his fingers run through Jaemin’s hair. Donghyuck — 

“What do you want, Donghyuck?” 

“Will you look at me?” 

Jaemin blinks and his eyes burn. He must have drunk too much beer; he needs sleep. But he turns however, pulling his feet out of the freezing ocean and taking a couple of steps back onto sand, onto dry land where it feels like he can some semblance of steadiness. Some poor imitation of stability where Donghyuck is concerned. “Is that you what you want?” 

Donghyuck smiles but it seems so flat. Opaque. Nothing like his usual smiles. The smiles that used to light Jaemin up, used to make him feel like he was flying but also making him feel like he was boiling, irritation roiling in him whenever Donghyuck pushed his buttons. This is nothing like that. This just makes Jaemin feel… Sad. 

Maybe Mark was onto something then. 

“No,” Donghyuck says. “But I’m realising the things I want aren’t necessarily the things that are going to happen. And I’m just depressed as fuck over that. Or I’m not. Who even knows what human emotions are anymore. No one’s that emotionally intune with themselves.”

Jaemin frowns. “Are you drunk?” 

Donghyuck laughs. “You just realised that now, babe? I thought I wasn’t getting any drunker and then _wooo_ ,” he floats his hand in midair and stumbles a little. “All those beers hit me, I guess.”

“Maybe you should get out of the ocean,” Jaemin suggests. They’re barely inches in the water, but still, he doesn’t want to go clambering into the freezing cold when Donghyuck inevitably fall in. He’s probably about to, given the weird existential crisis that seems to be gripping him. 

“Maybe,” Donghyuck says. “But drowning seems kind of fun.” He balances on one foot and toes the water, tipping sideways before he catches himself again. Jaemin forces his heart to stop beating so fast. This is just ridiculous. 

Instead, he sighs and steps forward and pulls Donghyuck out of the water, gripping his coat sleeve tightly and yanking him back to the dry sand, where their shoes and socks sit. Donghyuck stumbles and sits down clumsily on the sand. He peers up at Jaemin. “Can I ask you what I want?”

The bonfire is slowly dying in the distance and from what Jaemin can see, only a few figures remain by the fire. They should get back soon. He looks back down at Donghyuck. “I thought you knew it wouldn’t happen.”

Donghyuck shrugs. “Yeah,” he says. “But I’m _juuusttt_ drunk enough to try, y’know?”

“Fine,” Jaemin says. “What?”

Donghyuck pats the sand beside him, staring expectantly up at Jaemin. Jaemin holds back another sigh and sits down beside him. 

“What?” He asks again, impatient now. 

Donghyuck turns around until he’s facing Jaemin completely. “You can’t throw sand in my eyes, okay?” He asks.

Despite himself, Jaemin’s mouth twitches in a faint smile and Donghyuck seems to brighten up incandescently at it. At that small movement. “No promises,” Jaemin says. “Especially if you’re going to be an dickhead.”

“You’re mean,” Donghyuck mumbles. “Why do I find that so hot?” Jaemin blinks and before he can even begin to process that statement, Donghyuck locks eyes with him and asks, so flatly, so definitely, without any trace of amusement or laughter in his eyes that Jaemin would almost believe he’s sober if he hadn’t seen the evidence mere seconds before that pointed to the contrary. “I want you to help me with my rut.”

Jaemin stares at him. 

The waves crash against the beach and there’s nothing but the faint sound of the laughter in the distance, carried over the wind to where they sit, just the two of them, surrounded by the endless expanse of the ocean, under an endless sky, infinite stars glittering down at them. This cannot be real. This feels like… 

“What?” 

This feels like a dream. 


	4. you dyed your hair blue / oh, so much déjà vu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t owe you for my heat,” Jaemin repeats because if he’s going to do this, if he’s going to let himself fall into another alpha’s bed, into _Donghyuck’s_ bed all over again, he needs to make this clear. “You aren’t entitled to me because I’m the last omega you fucked.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> peep that total chapter count ahahaha 🥴,,,,, yeah we're going to be here for a while.  
> i would say im sorry this took so long but you have no idea how hard these bitches are to write.   
> i hope you like this one, im a little (a lot) worried about it. thank you to cony for reading it over for me ^^ no beta for this chapter we die like men who will soon regret our mistakes <3 
> 
> title is from Your Love (Déjà Vu) - Glass Animals

_February_

Sometimes, Jaemin will look at Donghyuck and wonder if this is what it’s supposed to be like. If this is what supposed love is really supposed to be like.

There's rarely a thing Jaemin is sure about, if he's being honest with himself, his whole life from start to bottom is one huge guessing game. Even with himself.

Donghyuck is... Different than anything Jaemin ever thought he'd end up with. Of course, this probably won't last — definitely won't last, really — but Jaemin had always imagined he'd have a string — maybe less — of girlfriends before settling with an alpha that would at least ease his father's disapproval and expectations of him. But Donghyuck, while an alpha, is certainly not what Jaemin had in mind.

Donghyuck drops into the seat opposite from him, startling Jaemin out of his thoughts and grins, pulling off his hat and raking a hand through his hair. Snow falls off his shoulders as settles into the seat. "Hey, babe."

Jaemin smiles faintly at him, straightening up in his seat out of habit. "You took your time."

"Class ran late," Donghyuck grumbles. "Apparently we can't learn _enough_ about mitosis before our exams. Though how miniscule cell reproduction affects my career, I will never understand."

Jaemin grins. "Someday you're gonna get a case with cells going rogue and you're going to think back on this moment."

"I don't think cells do that," Donghyuck murmurs, amused, and glances back up at the board. "I'm going to get myself coffee, what do you want?"

Jaemin jostles his cup, the ice cubes shifting against the plastic. "I have one."

"Yeah, but you're almost finished," Donghyuck says absentmindedly, still running over the menu with restless eyes. "You're due for another one soon. Usual order?"

Jaemin eyes him for a beat. "Yeah," he says after forcing his voice to work. "Thanks."

Donghyuck shoots him a smile before he gets up, abandoning his coat on his chair and disappearing into the crowd. It's snowing outside, light and fluffy and the music is soft and cheerful bearing witness to the coming holiday. 

Jaemin feels none of the cheer; he stopped caring about Valentine’s Day sometime during high school and it came to be known to all the alphas in his class that he was the one who got showered with the most attention from the girls and a few of the non-alpha boys. A lowly omega with all that attention. Jaemin had walked home with a black eye and a simmering rage that had nowhere to go once his father had taken one look at him over dinner and refused to look at him again until it faded.

It wasn’t like it mattered much; by that point, his father’s disappointment lived on his shoulder like a particularly unfriendly pet vulture, talons hooked into the meat of his shoulder, drawing blood over scars that never really got the chance to heal.

Jaemin turns his attention back to his laptop with a sigh. He only agreed to studying with Donghyuck upon the strict condition that they would actually get _work_ done. And being in a busy café with dozens of other students around did away with the distraction of Donghyuck staring at Jaemin's mouth until Jaemin let out an exasperated sigh, tossed away his book and lunged towards him. How Donghyuck was still acing all of his classes, Jaemin will never understand. 

"Here," Donghyuck sets another huge cup of iced coffee down on the table, carrying his own mug and a slice of lemon cake perched atop it on a precariously balanced plate. He pushes it over to Jaemin who eyes it. "You can have it if you want."

Jaemin looks at him, his nose flaring as Donghyuck settles in his seat, running his hand through his hair again. "You smell weird."

Donghyuck blinks and then surreptitiously sniffs himself, paying no attention to the people around them. Jaemin hisses at him to stop, blushing and Donghyuck snickers sitting back up.

"I don't smell anything," he says, a smile curving over his mouth, broad and handsome. Jaemin considers the pros and cons of scooting his chair around and kissing him. "Are you sure?"

Jaemin leans over the table and Donghyuck allows him to take his wrist, pressing his nose to the jut of his wrist bone. His eyes water when the strong scent of chilies burns up his nose, sandalwood close behind, curling over it. "Holy fuck," Jaemin coughs, unceremoniously dropping Donghyuck's hand and sitting back in his chair, fumbling for a napkin. "Why is it so strong?"

Donghyuck eyes him before he opens his mouth, clearly pausing before continuing hesitantly. "Is it your heat?" He asks cautiously, lowly. There's a faint pink on his cheeks, the tips of his ears, as if he's scared of broaching the subject.

He should be. It's the first time the topic of heats or ruts has cropped up around them, both of them having been relatively laid back in the course of their relationship and Jaemin had no idea what Donghyuck expects of him. _If_ he even wants to. There are very few people who would turn down an omega in heat but Jaemin’s had enough bad experiences that he’s stopped taking those things as granted.

Jaemin pauses. Considers. "It... Can't be. I don't think." Jaemin doesn't much like taking his suppressants and he forgets more often than he remembers but Jaemin rarely has his heats triggered by outside factors. He's too... Insular for that.

Donghyuck looks at him. Swallows. "Well," he says, opening his laptop. "If it is, we can deal with it when it happens. Or not deal with it," he looks down at the keyboard forcefully, pinkening harder. "Whatever you want to do, I'm okay with it."

Despite the confusion, the hesitation, Jaemin is amused. "I'll let you know," he says, not without a touch of laughter in his voice. "Thanks."

Donghyuck glances at him, just for a second, his gaze lingering before it pulls away. "Of course," he says, ducking his head back to his work. Jaemin eyes the curve of his pink ears for a second longer than he ought to before he pulls the lemon loaf towards himself and takes a bite. Even the strong, sweet lemon isn't enough to overpower the chilies coating the back of his throat.

🌧

Jaemin goes into heat on Valentine's Day. Which is _the_ most absurd thing he's ever heard of, but Jaemin has resigned himself to having a life that was a series of particularly unfortunate events designed to humiliate him in the most specific ways. If nothing else, he admired the universe’s attentiveness to making his life a living hell.

It's a Thursday and those are his worst days; he's got four classes, all an hour and half long and all dreary and monotonous with only a handful of people he knows spread throughout them. None of them have showed up today, though and Jaemin is completely bored by the time his second class ends. 

Other than a handful of texts exchanged with Donghyuck in the morning, they haven't seen each other and their lunch breaks don't line up today. Usually, Jaemin wouldn't even think about it — this is the one relationship he's had that has been so low stakes that it's almost absurdly easy — but for some reason today, everything in him is itching to see Donghyuck.

Jaemin tears his gaze away from a bouquet of bright pink flowers and a bunch of luridly bright balloons and focuses back on the lunch he hasn't touched much of. It must be all the feelings in the air, he supposes. Making him feel mushy and then promptly nauseous at that mushiness.

Someone stumbles over their feet as they pass by Jaemin's table, nearly spilling their food all over him and only at the last minute do they manage to straighten up.

"Sorry," they say, staring at Jaemin with wide eyes.

"It's.. Fine," Jaemin says, eyeing the stranger warily as they hastily gather their food back up and walk away but not without another glance back, one that lingers.

Weird. It's been happening all day; people staring at him longer than they should, double glancing at him. Jaemin had ducked into the bathroom more than once to see if there was anything on his face or his clothes but left feeling mystified every time.

He pushes his food away from him, the strong smell of the pork cutlet only making him queasy and pulls out his phone.

> **nana:** when are you done with classes?

> **the (unfortunate) boyfriend:** like 2?

> **nana:** meet me after my class?

> **the (unfortunate) boyfriend:** when/where

> **nana:** you really don't have an ounce of interest in me do you

> **the (unfortunate) boyfriend:** all part of the package babe ;)
> 
> **the (unfortunate) boyfriend:** well? where's your last class?

> **nana:** business building
> 
> **nana:** class ends at 3:30

> **the (unfortunate) boyfriend:** see you then
> 
> **the (unfortunate) boyfriend:** what's your favourite chocolate

> **nana:** don't be disgusting
> 
> **nana:** i will break up with you if you show up to my class with a box of chocolates

> **the (unfortunate) boyfriend:** god you're sad

The last class passes by in a slow blur, the lecture room nearly empty and the professor seeming to drone on at an exponentially lethargic rate as Jaemin forces himself to pay attention. There's no way to get notes for this class other than to attend and it's his hardest one.

His leg anxiously jiggles under the table, collecting irritated looks from the people around him and Jaemin presses his lips together in a flat imitation of a smile, while pressing his fist on his thigh, trying to stop the motion. It doesn't work. He's both doubly anxious for no reason and overtly bored; it does not make for a good combination.

As soon as class ends, Jaemin throws his things into his bag and practically runs out of the room, bursting out of the front doors into the fresh, clean air not without a small amount of relief.

"Well, that was dramatic," a voice says, amused. "You do know you aren't being filmed or anything, right? There's no indie flick about your life being made any time soon."

"Hello to you too asshole," Jaemin sighs marching straight up to Donghyuck and pushing into his space until Donghyuck's forced to wrap an arm around him, a startled noise escaping him. It's not even a proper hug, Jaemin's arms are hanging down by his side, holding his backpack but it's close enough, close to Donghyuck. 

They don’t do stuff like this, not in public anyway, despite being two very touchy people. But today… Jaemin noses at the curve of Donghyuck's jaw and takes a deep breath, feeling something that has been rattling in him all day settle with a gentle sigh.

Donghyuck takes a deep breath and then freezes, his arm tightening around Jaemin. "Min-ah," he says tightly. "Jaemin."

"What?" Jaemin grumbles, nose still pressed against Donghyuck’s cheek.

"You're in heat."

Jaemin blinks and then pulls back, meeting Donghyuck's wide eyes. "What?"

Donghyuck looks at him incredulously. "You can't tell?" He asks, voice pitching high. "You're in heat! How long have you been like this?"

Jaemin frowns. "I take suppressants,” he points out stupidly. He’s not in heat, he _can’t_ be. He hasn’t had a heat in almost six _months_. 

"Well, they're clearly not working," Donghyuck says, taking a step back and immediately Jaemin follows him, his hand coming up to curl around the hem of Donghyuck's hideously sweatshirt, tugging him back. His stomach aches.

"Don't," Jaemin says, a trembling edge to his voice. "It — it doesn't feel good."

"Yeah," Donghyuck scoffs, scrubbing a hand over his face as he obediently steps back into Jaemin's space. "You're _definitely_ not in heat."

"I could do without the unhelpful sarcasm," Jaemin snaps, his hand fisting in the fabric. "How was I supposed to know? It doesn't even feel like a proper heat!"

"Probably because of your suppressants," Donghyuck mutters, grabbing Jaemin's bag from his hands and nudging him down the sidewalk, pulling him closer to his body, and taking them in a wide circle around a group of people. "Your heat is breaking through them."

"Oh," Jaemin says. "Fantastic." Losing control is exactly what he's needed today. Jaemin lets out a laugh that cracks. "Fucking fantastic," he says again, breath shuddering out as the roiling in his gut tightens painfully. He breaks out into a cold sweat that prickles down his spine. It doesn't feel like a proper heat at all. He's cold and shaky and there's no haze of obscurity clouding his thinking. It just feels like he's falling sick, very rapidly. 

"Jaemin," Donghyuck says, a panicked tone in his voice. "Please don't go into heat right here in the middle of campus."

"Well it's not like I can control it, asshole!" Jaemin snaps. He _hates_ this; this constant lack of control that takes over. He hates his biology. He meets Donghyuck's gaze and somehow, in that moment all the tension floods out of both of them. Jaemin bites his lower lip and tries to relax.

There's a beat and then Donghyuck takes another deep breath, nostrils visibly flaring when Jaemin's scent hits him, his pupils dilating. "Okay," Donghyuck says carefully. Jaemin wishes they weren't in public. It would be so much easier, he thinks, to handle this if there weren't people passing by them every couple of seconds. "It's okay, Min-ah. Come on, let's get you home. We'll figure it out after that."

Jaemin swallows around the painful lump in his throat. "Okay," he says. Donghyuck wraps an arm around his shoulder, pulling him as close as possible so they can walk without tripping over each other's shoes. "I could have done with chocolate to deal with this bullshit, actually," Jaemin mutters.

Donghyuck sighs and his breath, sweet and spicy washes over Jaemin's face making him blink rapidly. "You're lucky I'm such a fantastic boyfriend then," he says. "It's in my backpack."

The apartment Jaemin shares with Jeno is quiet and empty when they get back from classes. "This feels weird," Jaemin confesses when he takes his bag from Donghyuck's hand and drops it on the couch. "I don't feel like I'm in heat at all."

"You certainly smell like it," Donghyuck says, voice odd. Jaemin twists around to look at him and finds Donghyuck still hovering by the front door, his shoulders tight and drawn up by his ears.

"What's wrong?"

Donghyuck shakes his head in an aborted motion. "Um — it's nothing. There's just a lot of different scents here. It's —" he takes another shaky breath and his jaw clenches. "It's a lot."

Oh. Jaemin considers being flattered over that before he pushes it away; there’s no time to examine _that_ specific feeling at this particular junction. "Yeah, Jeno has a lot of suitors," Jaemin says, walking towards Donghyuck. "And that's putting it mildly. You get used to it."

Donghyuck makes a noise that Jaemin supposes is acknowledgement before he presses his wrist to Donghyuck's nose. "That should help," Jaemin says. He's hoping, anyway. His suppressants have done their job a little too well; he can't even smell himself.

Donghyuck wrinkles his nose. "Why do you smell so good?" He asks, wrapping a hand around Jaemin's waist and reeling him closer. Jaemin stiffens when Donghyuck sticks his nose against his neck, pressed up against him. "Seriously, you smell like vanilla frosting."

"Great," Jaemin says, sounding strangled even to his own ears. "Glad the suppressants didn't fuck me up entirely."

"I'm pretty sure they'll start wearing off soon," Donghyuck says. "It must be because of me."

Jaemin snorts. "Have a high opinion of ourselves, do we?"

"No," Donghyuck disagrees. When he pulls away, his cheeks are flushed. Jaemin doesn’t know if it’s because he’s embarrassed or because of his proximity to Jaemin. “Your heat probably cut through your suppressants because of proximity to an alpha. You’re going to start feeling it _really_ soon, I’m guessing, going by your fever.” His hand presses against Jaemin’s cheek, to gauge his temperature and Jaemin leans into it without thinking. 

“I’m around Renjun all the time too,” Jaemin manages. “Chenle too.” As soon as Donghyuck had voiced it, it feels like his body had kicked into high gear, his head starting to spin. He pulls away from Donghyuck even though it feels like hell and stumbles over to the couch, sinking down on it and pressing his fingers into the cushions, trying to gain a sense of stability. 

Donghyuck’s eye roll is audible but Jaemin can’t find it in himself to smack him. Not when his skin is starting to sizzle uncomfortably, and Donghyuck has followed him to the couch, sitting close beside Jaemin to ease his pain. “An alpha you’re romantically involved with,” he sighs and Jaemin doesn’t push him away. Again. “Not someone you just fuck whenever you feel like it. And it’s been a while since you’ve done that.” He narrows his eyes playfully at Jaemin. “Or so I hope. Shouldn’t you know all this?”

Jaemin shrugs. As much as people seem to think he’s a social butterfly, and a flirt to boot, there haven’t been many girlfriends in his collegial years that have gotten close enough to experience Jaemin in heat. “It’s been… I haven’t spent my heat with a lot of people. Let alone alphas. Chenle is an — unlikely — exception.”

“Exclusive,” Donghyuck murmurs teasingly. He doesn’t sound jealous at all. “Okay, get up.”

“What? Why?” Jaemin whines, letting himself be dragged up from the couch. His whole body hurts and Donghyuck is somehow making it worse and better all at the same time. 

“You need to get in a shower,” Donghyuck says, wrapping his arm around Jaemin’s waist. “I’m certain you’re going to be a useless lump in about half an hour.”

“You don’t need to babysit me,” Jaemin mumbles. “‘M not a _child_. I can take care of myself.”

Donghyuck’s sigh ruffles his hair as the bathroom door swings open and Donghyuck carefully pulls Jaemin’s coat off, before tipping his chin up to make Jaemin meet his gaze. “I know you aren’t. I know you can.” Jaemin hates himself. Hates that it soothes him to meet Donghyuck’s eyes, that he finds comfort in the steady, warm gaze leveled at him. “If you want me to help you out, I’m here. But if you want me gone, I’ll call Jeno and as soon as he’s here, I’ll leave.” He swallows and his hand smooths Jaemin’s bangs away from his forehead. “I know we’ve only been dating for a couple of months and it’s hard to… Do this with someone. But — but I like you. A lot… And I’d like to take care of you. But only — only if you’re okay with that.”

Something pricks in Jaemin at that. How often can someone be in the position, he wonders. At the mercy of an alpha before one of the worst heats of his life hits, leaving him crippled, vulnerable. All the things Jaemin despises being. The heavens must be trembling with the force of its laughter; forever amused by the misery constantly nipping at Jaemin’s heels. How often must he be forced to give himself up like this, to someone who will only leave.

At his continued silence, Donghyuck steps back, his hand slipping from Jaemin’s body. The heat rages upward suddenly, without the cooling presence of an alpha against him and Jaemin grits his teeth against the burn. 

“Okay,” Donghyuck says softly, pulling his phone out of his back pocket, even though Jaemin has told him half a hundred times that it’s a sure fire way for it to shatter on the ground or get stolen. “Let me call —” 

“Fine,” Jaemin says. Without Donghyuck, he slumps against the sink, taking a shaky breath. “You can stay.”

Donghyuck’s mouth parts in a perfect circle and his phone drops down to his side. “Are you sure?” He asks softly. 

Jaemin groans. “Yes,” he says and then continues, before he can say anything stupid or reavealing. “Now get me in the fucking shower before I collapse on my bathroom floor and kill you.”

The smile leveled at him is luminous and Jaemin closes his eyes, forcing himself to relax. It shouldn’t be this hard. Why is it this hard to give up control?

🌧

It almost hurts, in an entirely different way, completely removed from his heat, when Donghyuck presses him down against the sheets and fucks him, slow and careful. 

“I’m not going to break,” Jaemin manages, digging his fingers into Donghyuck’s hair and pulling his head up so their gazes meet. His heat is still slowly creeping up against him, as if fighting the tide of his suppressants with every second. It’s torture; slow moving, volcanic flow, lava oozing down the hills in bright orange, screaming a warning to anyone who was looking. 

“I know,” Donghyuck says, whispers. “But this isn’t a normal heat, is it?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” 

Donghyuck kisses his sternum and rolls his hips again, maddeningly lazy, his cock brushing against his prostate, lighting him up from the inside out. “So you don’t really know if you’re going to break or not.” He looks up at Jaemin through his lashes and Jaemin suddenly wants to sink his teeth into his lower lip, pink and pouty as it is. “Do you?”

Jaemin sighs and lets his head fall back against the pillow. “I hate cocky alphas.” 

Donghyuck’s laugh rumbles through him and he pushes up, bracing his hands on either side of Jaemin’s head and grinning down at him. “Lucky you have me then.” The next leisurely stroke has Jaemin’s head spinning and he digs his fingers into Donghyuck’s ribs, trying not to hold him too close as he lets himself be taken apart. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Donghyuck says, his voice sleepy. Jaemin looks at him. Donghyuck’s hair looks a mess, puffed up all over and a slight sheen of sweat sticking his bangs to his forehead. He’s curled around Jaemin, a protective comma, but apart from the occasional careful nuzzle against Jaemin’s jawline, his hands haven’t wandered. Jaemin wishes he wasn’t surprised.

This heat has been strange. 

“This was the most ridiculous one, I think,” Jaemin says instead of voicing any of this and Donghyuck laughs, and throws an arm over Jaemin’s bare chest, pulling him in closer. “And I’ve had some pretty awful ones.” He winces after he says it. It’s clear he’s not talking about Valentine’s Day.

There’s a long pause.

“Maybe you can tell me about them sometime.” Donghyuck’s voice is careful in breaking the silence. Something small and awful curdles inside Jaemin’s chest. Why does he always pick the observant ones? The ones who, with one glance, lashes brushing against the tops of warm cheeks, can pry Jaemin open with bare fingers, crack open his ribcage and figure out all his worst secrets, best hidden lies nestled amongst the torn flesh and blood.

“Maybe,” Jaemin murmurs. “When I’m sure you’re not going to run away screaming.”

“Oh, there’s no chance of that,” Donghyuck sighs. “You’ve got me stuck in your frosting now, Min-ah. No way you’re getting rid of me.”

_Well,_ Jaemin thinks, not without an ounce of trepidation. _We’ll see_. 

🌧

"Why are you freaking out about spending your heat with your boyfriend?" Jeno asks, casting a look over his shoulder at a slumped over Jaemin.

"He's not my boyfriend," Jaemin mumbles, not peeling his face off the kitchen counter as Jeno clunks around making breakfast for the two of them.

Donghyuck had left a day and a half ago, after Jaemin's heat had ended, a soft kiss pressed to the top of Jaemin's cheek before he'd left the apartment, wearing Jaemin's clothes and smelling exactly like him, sugar coated spice, and an earthy warmth that still hasn’t left Jaemin’s sheets, no matter how many times he’s washed them. Jaemin hadn't watched him leave; it had brought something curdling to his stomach when he tried.

Jeno makes a noise that's a cross between disbelief and disgust. "You've been dating for two months, you spend _all_ your free time together, and you spent your last _heat_ with him. You _call_ him your boyfriend."

"That's besides the point."

Jeno turns around and sets a plate of rolled eggs beside Jaemin's head and follows it up with some soup and rice as well as a huge helping of kimchi. Jaemin picks his head up grudgingly only because he's starving and he's barely eaten in the last week. Donghyuck had pushed him to eat half a sandwich during his heat and then in the next hour had held Jaemin up while he threw it all up.

"So, no food," Donghyuck had gasped while Jaemin retched, smoothing his sweaty bangs from his forehead. "Got it."

Jaemin groaned and tried not to plant his head on the toilet seat. He'd already debased himself in front of Donghyuck enough. 

"Just crackers," he mumbled later when they'd collapsed back on the bed in a sweaty, rumpled mess.

"What?" Donghyuck asked, confused as he carefully picked Jaemin up by the shoulders and shuffled him along the bed until his head had slumped onto his pillow. He feels disgusting even after the shower Donghyuck had made him take. 

“Crackers,” Jaemin repeated in a slurred voice. “They’re white and bland. There’s a box in the kitchen. ‘S the only thing I can keep down on my heats.”

“Oh.” Donghyuck’s hand smoothed down his back. “Okay. I’ll get them for you.” He made to get up but Jaemin had latched on faster than he thought he could move, hand wrapping tightly around Donghyuck’s waist and pulling him back in. 

“Don’t go,” he’d said, the words tripping out of his mouth in a clumsy, mumbled fall. Sleep had washed over him like a wave licking at the sand and Jaemin had let his eyes fall shut. “Not yet.”

A beat. “Okay, Min-ah,” Donghyuck had said softly, so gently it made Jaemin’s breath catch in his chest. “I’m right here.”

🌧

> **the (unfortunate) boyfriend:** stop avoiding me

> **nana:** dont delude yourself
> 
> **nana:** you're not that important

> **the (unfortunate) boyfriend:** lieeeee
> 
> **the (unfortunate) boyfriend:** seriously stop it

Jaemin heaves a sigh when the call comes in, Donghyuck's contact picture — a stupid mirror selfie he'd sent to Jaemin the night of some random party, tongue sticking out and the arch of his collarbone clean through the low cut of his button down shirt — glaring up at him accusingly for not picking up. Finally Jaemin gives in.

"What?"

"Now is that any way to talk your adoring boyfriend?" Donghyuck asks brightly and Jaemin rolls his eyes heavenward so hard that it hurts.

"I'm not avoiding you," Jaemin says before Donghyuck can start his own special brand of interrogation that makes him want to rip his eardrums out and simultaneously attach his mouth to Donghyuck's so he can no longer speak. "Can we be done now?"

"It's been a week," Donghyuck says and the abrupt shift of his tone from teasing to gentle is so jarring that Jaemin leans back in his chair, casting a wary glance around at the neighbouring tables in the library to see if anyone is interested in his conversation or in the tint his ears have surely taken on. "You haven't responded to half of my texts and I'm pretty sure you're on the verge of a breakdown."

Jaemin snorts. "You're not that important," he repeats because it bears repeating. Bears reminding himself of it over and over again. The less important Donghyuck is to him, the less it will hurt when he inevitably leaves.

"Sure," Donghyuck allows easily. "Let's go with that. But your heat is important to you, and I was there for it. Wanna talk about that? And what I did wrong?"

Jaemin blinks. "You didn't do anything wrong," he manages through a suddenly tight throat.

"Good to know," Donghyuck says and Jaemin might be imagining the faint edge of relief in his voice. He doesn't think he is, though. "Why are you avoiding me then?"

Jaemin puts his head down in his arms and closes his eyes. "Why do you care so much?"

"Am I not supposed to care about you?" Donghyuck asks, tone tightening.

"I didn't say that." 

"Then, what?" Donghyuck asks and Jaemin knows he's sitting on the backfoot here but he has no idea how to regain the higher ground. Donghyuck sighs when Jaemin has no answer. "Let me know when you figure it out," he says finally, an tetchy edge slipping into his voice. Somehow, Jaemin feels relieved — this is something he knows how to handle. Careful consideration, not so much. "Whatever's going on with you."

"Nothing's going on with me," Jaemin snaps and silence falls. "I'm _fine_."

There's several agonising beats and then Donghyuck sighs. "Okay," he says. "Okay." There's an intake of breath and then, a soft, almost resigned and subdued, "You make it so hard, sometimes, Min-ah."

"To do what?" Jaemin asks, through the cotton crammed into his mouth, shoved down his throat and holding him back but the call ends before the words make their way out.

🌧

_Now_

Jaemin has been ignoring Donghyuck's texts. He hasn't even opened them, for fear of what he might see. Thankfully, they stop after two days. Somehow the pointed silence is worse.

Jaemin ignores it.

He hasn't seen Donghyuck since the night on the beach; he'd taken the car back with Mark and Renjun instead, pointedly ignoring _their_ silent questions. Try as he might however, it's hard to stop thinking about Donghyuck. Jaemin often wishes he could create an Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind situation — but one where it actually _worked_ — to erase all thoughts and memories of Donghyuck so he wouldn't plague him.

Jaemin could do with some peace and quiet. He could do without the lingering image of Donghyuck still sitting on the beach, looking awfully small and lonely as Jaemin had walked away, his question, his _request_ , left unanswered, burned into the forefront of his mind like an afterimage, like the last sparkles of a firework containing its entire glory in a few final seconds of light. He could do without the awful feeling of guilt for doing so. Donghyuck had been drunk and he didn't know what he was asking. Jaemin _had_ to walk away. He tells himself this roughly ten times a day or whenever he thinks about Donghyuck. Which is often.

He could do without the constant reminder that he _owes_ Donghyuck for his heat, that Donghyuck is probably an asshole for asking it, but he is well within his rights to do so. After all, it had been Jaemin who'd asked him the first time, who'd curled his hand around Donghyuck's shirt and _begged_ him to stay.

Jaemin presses down on the flash of humiliation that wells up in him at the memory and turns back to his work. Just because exams had finished before fall break had begun did not mean he didn't have things to do.

🌧

“Have you spoken to Donghyuck at all?” 

Jaemin doesn’t bother looking up from his notes. “No,” he says flatly, hoping that’s the end of the conversation. 

But because Renjun exists to prod every single bruise on Jaemin’s body just to elicit a reaction out of him, he doesn’t stop there. “You should,” he says. “I know he asked you to help with his rut.” 

Jaemin takes a deep breath and flips a page. The words are blurring though, completely unreadable no matter how much he tries. “We broke up months ago,” he says.

“And I know you walked away without even bothering to give him an answer,” Renjun carries on as if Jaemin hadn’t spoken at all. “That was cruel of you.”

_That_ makes Jaemin look up, fingers tightening unconsciously around the edge of his notebook, the metal spirals digging into his hand. “What the fuck?” He demands, anger rising easily. “Where do you get off—”

Renjun levels a look at him and the seriousness in his gaze makes Jaemin’s word stutter to a stop. “You’re giving him hope,” he says bluntly. “That there might be something else to wait for.”

Jaemin stares at him. “We _broke up_ ,” he repeats, struggling to find the words that can convey the confusion and incredulity he’s feeling right now. “Donghyuck _knows_ that. If he’s — for some godforsaken reason — holding onto hope that we’re going to get back together?” Jaemin laughs and it tastes like ash in his mouth. “That’s on _him_. He’s deluding himself.”

“That was the wrong thing to say,” Renjun says, backtracking and Jaemin scoffs. 

“You fucking think?”

Renjun sighs and rubs at his forehead like he’s getting a headache. “You asked to help you out with your heat, Jaemin,” he says, clearly trying to start over. “Do you think he’s thinking about anything else than that? When his rut is about to start? I have no idea if he wants a relationship with you — he _shouldn’t_ , if he has even an ounce of self-preservation — but right now all he’s thinking about is the last omega he spent time with. And he’s not handling it well.”

“What do you mean ‘self-preservation?” Jaemin asks. His head is spinning; Renjun had dropped too many bombs in the span of three minutes and Jaemin’s not in the right headspace to handle all of it. “And what do you _mean_ ‘handling it well’? He’s not a child; he’s helped so many people with their heats without any strings. What makes this any different?” As much as Jaemin hates to admit it, he knows Donghyuck is not an asshole. He knows that Donghyuck probably doesn’t feel entitled to Jaemin’s help or whatever he’s looking for but right now Jaemin’s feeling attacked and defenseless and he hates being in that position — it feels like a repeat of his past, coming back to smack him in the face — and it feels a lot like he’s being backed into a corner. Only because he was stupid enough to reach out to Donghyuck in the first place. 

“You’re not other people, though,” Renjun reminds and it sinks like a stone to the bottom of Jaemin’s stomach.

Jaemin takes a deep breath and forces his irritation down. “What do you want, Renjun?” He asks, exhausted. He understands where Renjun is coming from, in a strangely warped way. Renjun is Donghyuck’s best friend, and just as Jeno would be, he’s being protective. That doesn’t mean Jaemin has to enjoy being on this side of a simultaneous interrogation and lambasting, though.

“Talk to Donghyuck,” Renjun says finally. “He doesn’t feel entitled or anything like that, Jaemin, of course he doesn’t. You know that. Just...” He bites his lip. “Please talk to him. I know it’s wrong of me to ask that of you but you haven’t seen him in the last week. He doesn’t _want_ me to help him and even Mark is even having a hard time getting past all of his pheromones.”

Jaemin swallows tightly. “So get Jisung,” he says. “Donghyuck wouldn’t turn him away.”

Renjun ignores this. “Please talk to him,” he repeats. “If you can.” 

Jaemin clenches his jaw and then shoves his notebook abruptly into his bag. “I gotta go,” he mutters, snatching up the rest of his things. 

Renjun blinks, startled. “Jaemin, wait—”

“I don’t appreciate being backed into a corner just because Donghyuck’s having a hard time dealing with his rut and I’m an _omega_ ,” Jaemin hisses, so viciously that Renjun flinches back before his shoulders draw up. “I don’t _owe_ Donghyuck anything.”

“Of course you don’t,” Renjun says quickly, mollifying, as if it might cause Jaemin to stay. He shoves his phone into his bag and grabs his coffee. “I’m just — I know you care about him even if you like to pretend you don’t. Just — just think about that.”

Jaemin just snorts, angry and exhausted and so _done_ with his whole conversation. “Bye,” he says tightly and walks away before Renjun can say anything else that will just irritate Jaemin _more_.

🌧

He doesn’t talk to Donghyuck. 

Jaemin picks up his phone once or twice, almost opens the still unread messages before he puts it back down again. He doesn’t owe Donghyuck anything. He doesn’t.

Jaemin doesn’t think about the beach. He doesn’t think about the way Donghyuck had watched him, eyes huge and filled with regret as Jaemin had clumsily gotten up from the sand, shoving still wet feet into his shoes.

“Min-ah,” Donghyuck had said. “I shouldn’t have asked. I told you — I was drunk.”

“Then why did you?” Jaemin managed. In the moonlight, Donghyuck still looked luminous. A child of the sun unbothered, still beautiful in the night. “Hyuck—” Jaemin laughed awfully, the sound scraping up the inside of his throat. “You knew what that night was. It wasn’t — I can’t start this with you again.”

“I know,” Donghyuck said. His toes wiggled in the sand and Jaemin had watched him, trying not to cry all of a sudden, trying not to mourn what had long been broken. There was a reason they hadn’t worked. There was a reason Jaemin had walked away. “I just—” he shrugged, a tiny, jerky movement. “I trust you. That’s why.”

“That’s not fair,” Jaemin whispered though it had been the exact same reason he’d approached Donghyuck. Out of all the people in that party, out of all of his friends, Donghyuck had been the one he’d trusted the most. Who knew him the most. 

“I know,” Donghyuck said again. He looked up at Jaemin and it nearly rocked Jaemin back — that tiny smile still tugging at the side of his mouth. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You can say no.” 

Well, Jaemin knew that. He didn’t need a still drunk Donghyuck to tell him that. He didn’t say it though, he just shoved his heel into his shoe, and walked away from Donghyuck, head chock full of memories he wished he could forget. 

🌧

Jaemin bumped into Donghyuck a week later. Fully slammed into him, actually. He hadn’t been looking where he was going, head bent over a confusing email from his professor about deadlines being changed and had run head first into Donghyuck, his phone clattering from his hand and onto the road, tugging his headphones out of his ears along with it.

“Fuck,” Donghyuck gasped and everything in Jaemin tightened at hearing his voice so close to him. “Min-ah.”

Jaemin glanced up at him as he bent down to grab his things. “Sorry,” he mumbled, making to leave. He didn’t want to speak to Donghyuck, didn’t want to face whatever was going to come. It had been a tumultuous week and all he wanted to do was crash in his bed and stop thinking about — everything. 

“Wait, Jaemin—” Donghyuck reaches out to touch him as he moves away.

Jaemin rips his wrist away from Donghyuck’s hand instantly, his skin sparking at the touch and suddenly everything in him is roaring to life, like a dying flame doused with gasoline. “Don’t touch me,” he snarls, the words coming out far harsher than he’d intended.

Donghyuck’s eyes widen and he immediately drops his hand, and takes two steps back. “Sorry,” he gasps. “I didn’t mean to, I’m—” He swallows hard and Jaemin blinks. Takes a proper look at him.

Donghyuck’s sweating, a thin sheen covering his forehead and he’s wearing just a threadbare shirt that does nothing to cover him from the sharp October wind. His hands clench at his sides and when someone brushes past him, he flinches hard, shoulders hunching in on himself. “Sorry,” he says again, taking another step back. “I should go—”

“Are you okay, Donghyuck?” Jaemin asks cautiously. 

“Fine,” Donghyuck says. “I just—” Someone jostles into Jaemin, knocking him sideways a step before he rights himself and Donghyuck growls, anger ripping across his face before he ruthlessly suppresses it. 

“Oh my god,” Jaemin says with a gut wrenching realisation. “Are you about to go into rut?”

Donghyuck just looks at him and for a moment, Jaemin thinks the universe really must hate. Really must absolutely despise him. It must be laughing down at him right now, for sticking Jaemin with such a colossal idiot. The fates must be enjoying this, ridding Jaemin of every opportunity to move on.

“I tried texting you,” Donghyuck rasps. Jaemin takes one, two, three steps and closes the distance between them. He hesitates for a brief moment before wrapping his hand around Donghyuck’s wrist. Somehow Donghyuck’s body only seems to tighten up further, tensing so hard under his touch that Jaemin worries he’s about snap apart right here on the street. “You didn’t answer.”

“Maybe there was a reason I didn’t want to answer, did you think about that?” Jaemin demands. He can feel himself starting to respond to the pheromones pouring off Donghyuck in hot waves, stomach clenching tightly.

“I did,” Donghyuck says softly, softer than his situation calls for, right now. “I was just on my way to the clinic.”

“So you decided to walk? In the middle of a busy campus?” Jaemin snaps.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Donghyuck says. His hand trembles under Jaemin’s. “Can you let go of me, please? You’re not making this easier.”

Jaemin doesn’t let go. It doesn’t matter to him that Donghyuck hadn’t bothered him further, it didn’t matter that he had resigned himself to using a clinic — a place Jaemin wouldn’t wish on anyone. He wants his answers and he wants them now, when Donghyuck is most likely to tell him the truth. When he’s unable to walk away from Jaemin.

He opens his mouth to demand all sorts of answers but all that comes out is, “I’m taking you home. Let’s go.”

“What?” Donghyuck asks, startled but he doesn’t stop Jaemin from yanking him down the street. “I can’t go home, Jaemin. I’m literally right about to —”

“You’re not spending your rut in the health center,” Jaemin says with the disgust that place deserves. “It’s a hellhole, you and I both know that.”

“I have no other options,” Donghyuck snaps but somehow he seems powerless to disobey right now, at least with Jaemin’s hands still around him. Jaemin’s caught him at the right time then, just before he sinks too deep into his head and gives into instinct altogether.

Jaemin scoffs. “You have _plenty_ of options,” he bites back, shoving Donghyuck into the back of a cab that had foolishly sidled up to Jaemin’s outstretched hand. He spits out Donghyuck’s address and follows it up with, “I’ll pay you double if you get us there in five minutes.”

The cab driver glances at a profusely sweating Donghyuck, at Jaemin and then lays his foot on the gas, wrenching away from the curbside in a dizzying swoop.

By the time they reach Donghyuck’s apartment, Donghyuck seems to be half gone. He leans heavily against the elevator wall, breathing hard and fast, as if struggling to contain himself.

Jaemin wants to kick him. Wants to demand why he didn’t ask someone else. Why he couldn’t just spend it alone like any other well-suffering alpha but what comes out is a hissed, slightly desperate, “Why _me_?”

Donghyuck looks a little angry at that. “If you had answered any of my texts or calls you would _know_ ,” he hisses back, pushing himself off the wall as the elevator reaches his floor and Jaemin’s gut clenches at it, at the tone, at his proximity to Jaemin. “It’s just — I don’t know, something happened during your heat and I can’t even think about finding someone else without wanting to throw up. The health center is a last ditch option.” His face screws up and it seems doubly painful for the following words to come out as they enter his apartment, the lock chime oddly cheerful in such a tense moment. “I need _you_. I don’t know why but I do.”

If it had been any other moment, if Jaemin wasn’t standing in Donghyuck’s apartment right now, positively smothered in his scent, his skin lighting up against the spicy fire of chilies coating his clothes, if Donghyuck didn’t look like he was about to fall apart any second now, Jaemin would have crowed smugness. He would have laughed in Donghyuck’s face at the admission — a sign of weakness if there ever was one — and sauntered right out of the building in the knowledge, that for once, the universe was on his side and it was Donghyuck looking like an idiot in front of him. 

But right now… Jaemin looks at Donghyuck and finds any part of him that would have been willing to walk away on the street and leave Donghyuck behind, die instantly. _God fucking dammit._ He opens his mouth to speak but Donghyuck interrupts, clearly too nervous in the extended silence.

“I won’t — I won’t even kiss you,” He says desperately and Jaemin blinks. When had that ever been an issue? “It’s just… Just one night. I’ll leave after that.”

“What are you talking about—” he starts and Donghyuck shudders, sweat beading down his face, his nails digging into his palms. He’s going to draw blood soon if he continues like this. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Donghyuck gasps, swaying on the spot, and Jaemin sighs long and hard through his nose before stalking forward and shutting Donghyuck’s front door, and pushing him back into his room. 

He gives in. All over again.

“What do you mean ‘one night’ you dumbass?” He snaps instead of asking about the _kiss_. He shoves that to the back of his mind and hauls Donghyuck upright, yanking his shirt off. “Your rut lasts for _days_. This is your _house_ , where the fuck are you gonna go?”

“Didn’t really think about that,” Donghyuck says as he falls onto the bed, panting. 

“Yeah, because you’re an idiot,” Jaemin responds before he swallows and says, “I don’t owe you anything.”

Donghyuck blinks at him, a little thrown off. “What?” 

“I don’t owe you for my heat,” Jaemin repeats because if he’s going to do this, if he’s going to let himself fall into another alpha’s bed, into _Donghyuck’s_ bed all over again, he needs to make this clear. “You aren’t entitled to me because I’m the last omega you fucked.”

Donghyuck frowns at him. “What the fuck made you think that?” He demands, aghast, struggling up onto his elbows so he can meet Jaemin’s eyes better. “Jaemin, I’m _well_ aware you don’t owe me anything; I helped you out because I _wanted_ to, not because of some fucked up sense of obligation. You do whatever the fuck you want, you always have. You can walk out of here right now and I wouldn’t stop you, what the _fuck_ makes you think I would?” 

Objectively Jaemin had known all of this. “Renjun said...” He mutters and then trails off. 

Donghyuck’s expression darkens and he sits up, jaw clenched tightly. “I’m going to kill him,” he promises. “I told him not to bother you.”

Jaemin looks at Donghyuck and then takes a deep breath. Prays this isn’t going to fuck him over in the future and then shrugs off his coat. “Okay,” he says. They can have this conversation another time — if they ever do. If Jaemin doesn’t figure out a way to escape Donghyuck at the tail end of his rut and transfer schools before anyone can ask him any damning questions. He can’t _not_ do this, not when Donghyuck looks like this, not when he smells like _this_. Not when Jaemin knows what’s coming and how it make his gut only clench in anticipation. “Okay,” he says again. “Let’s do this.”

Donghyuck stares at him, expression half surprised, half concerned, half starry before Jaemin’s coat hits him in the face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> send me your brainwaves i am in desperate need of nahyuck validation

**Author's Note:**

> [easy playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4dt65qiuDY8jNudGJu2OjT?si=1y7Fy9lTThODzlgojDAreA)   
>  [twt](https://twitter.com/_donghyuck_)   
>  [cc](https://curiouscat.me/thereisnoreality)


End file.
